


Fragile! Handle With Care

by KinkTailedKitty (Lady_of_Cats)



Series: The Heart is a Delicate Thing [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Briefly mentions pedophillia, Collars, Consentacles, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/F, Kinktober 2020, Master/Pet, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Part Dark, Part Fluff, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Public Sex, Reincarnation, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Succubi & Incubi, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 128,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Cats/pseuds/KinkTailedKitty
Summary: A starving succubus encounters a wealthy incubus one cold autumn night. The incubus gives her the offer of a lifetime; stay with her for several months, make herself available for the incubus's use. In return, she'll be a pampered pet, fed and sheltered against the oncoming winter and the incubus will teach her what it means to be both demon and succubus.But the incubus's motivations aren't entirely pure. And the succubus isn't quite as honest as she probably should be.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: The Heart is a Delicate Thing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157189
Comments: 132
Kudos: 216





	1. One - The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A starving succubus meets a lonely incubus

#### 21st Precinct - Thalassia 1

_"People of Thalassia, it is with great pride and pleasure that I announce the Secondary Identification Act--"_

The wall was cold and slick with fresh rainfall and the public announcement droned on. It was the third time they played it and she could probably recite its message by heart.

A fine misting clung into the air, chilling skin damp with sweat. She pressed her fingers against the ada-crete, forcing herself to take deep breaths as the man behind her pounded her against it. She could feel things tearing, chafing from friction despite the defensive arousal her body produced and carelessly aimed thrusts. That was okay. She would regenerate, heal as if nothing had happened. She was a succubus. She was made for sex, as so many people liked to remind her.

Skin slapped against skin. He smelled of sour wine and smoke, too many nights spent at cheap bars. He fumbled her breasts clumsily, groping and pinching her cold-hardened nipples until she cried out. It was more for his pleasure than hers.

"Fuck, little girl," he said. Amazing, what slipped through in the middle of sex. Most of the time it was a kink. This time, the edges of his desire tasted foul. It was more than a kink. He wanted to fuck a kid and she was the youngest-looking prostitute on the street. Not that it was difficult. All the best prostitutes found their way to the 18th Precinct. All that was left here were the ones drugged out of their heads, the old ones, and the ones who couldn't afford to be noticed. She was in the third category. "You're dirty aren't you, wet for your daddy huh?"

She braced herself with every thrust. She could feel him pulsing inside of her, knew that he'd be done soon enough. She was dizzy with hunger and that was the only concern of hers. But the man's lust for her was thin, less directed at her and more at the divergent image of her in his head. This meal would probably poison her anyway. It tasted foul. At least that was the best way she could explain it. It was more than just _taste_. It was sensation rippling across the wings bound carefully in the aether, pressing against her skin. When she tried to take a deep breath, she inhaled the thin, dilute energy and it left her entirely unsatisfied.

This was a waste of time. But she needed money too as well as a meal. She had a long night ahead of her.

Maybe she could make up for it by taking too much from him, leaving him without any sexual desire at all for another body. She'd probably be doing the city a favour.

_"As of the beginning of next month, all non-humans will be required to register as non-human on their identification cards--"_

The announcement droned on. The man would be boring if he weren't so incompetent. A particularly painful thrust made her gasp, flex. He took it for pleasure. His hand cupped around her mouth. His fingers reeked of grease and things she wasn't going to think about. Blood. She could smell blood, metallic tang hanging in the air. From his hands or from her? No, it was an echo off of his lust. She struggled to breathe, surrounded by lust touched by death.

"Better stay quiet, little girl," he said. "Don't want anyone seeing you like this, huh?"

They'd already attracted a few quick looks, then people had walked on. Just a prostitute at work in the alley. Nothing much to see at all, better to keep moving on. There was a teenage boy watching, his eyes intent. She could feel his desire too. It was sweeter than the man's, uncomplicated by sick fantasies. Maybe she'd track him down, offer him a discount. He'd offer her a better meal than this one, at least. Then again, she didn't know what kind of diseases the man had. They wouldn't hurt her, but she wasn't going to inflict them on a kid without reason.

"Does your daddy know you do this, girlie?" he asked in her ear. "Whore yourself out?" 

She didn't know her mother or father. She'd hatched in an orphanage for monsters. As soon as her wings had come in with puberty, even before she'd stopped being able to digest human food and could only subside on sex in all its forms, she'd been told to spread her legs for money, for food, for shelter. The owners of the orphanage made her pay back every cost involved in raising her with sex, either with them or with the friends they brought by. She'd been taught the only meaning of succubi that mattered.

 _Easy for you,_ the voices in her memories said. _You're made for it, you know. Just lay back. Relax._

There was a change in the air, subtle. She couldn't smell anything but she could feel it. It crackled in the air like sparks thrown from charged metal. It had no taste, it wasn't lust or release, or anything else she could sense. Tension in her body relaxed. The slick of arousal grew thicker, wetter. Heat simmered in her cold veins. She moaned softly, thrust herself back. She'd lost track of the client in the haze. What was it? Where was it coming from?

The man thought it was for him. Every thrust slammed her into the wall. She'd have bruises by the end of the night. Her body already ached from the cold and the chilly damp of the misting rain. She wanted to drag herself back to her tiny apartment, leave it all off tomorrow. But she needed at least five clients tonight to make rent, to pay the 'protection' fees that kept the local gang from breaking into her apartment and probably taking the rest of their missed payment from her body. "Fucking whore," he growled. "So fucking tight. Am I your first, little girl?"

He didn't actually believe it. But she could feel the lust the thoughts sent through him. He wanted to take a girl's virginity again. He was too old to get away with it now, had to live out fantasies with someone like her. She was losing his interest. She let out a wordless moan, let her hips rock a few times. Just had to keep him going so he wouldn't try to demand his money back.

But what was that she was sensing? She tried to taste the air. There was another sense of lust there, simmering and potent, slowly growing. The teenage boy's lust tasted like nectar-- raw and thin as water. This was honey, matured slowly, concentrated. It came from one side of the alleyway. Unlike the man's lust, this one was directed fully at her, not some fantasy in the man's head. It felt like hot summer nights on her wings.

If she finished with this one fast enough, maybe she could track down the source and seduce them into spending a little money. Maybe for the first time in months, she would feel full again. She'd give anything to stop feeling hungry.

_"-- Meant to increase our ability to protect our non-human residence and better react to their needs in this changing time--"_

"Nnnngh," she moaned as the man went in at the wrong angle, again. Pain flared from her abused parts, breasts and sheath alike. She could feel him, even harder, the pulse of blood through his vessels. She felt the subtle and less than subtle changes in his lust. Her time to eat was ending. Her wings ached to spread, pushing against her will. No, she couldn't unfurl them. Her identification card marked her as human. It had taken most of her savings to obtain that identity. She couldn't waste it.

"I'm coming baby girl," he said. "Look what you made me do."

She can feel it, the spurts of hot white fluid that fill her depths as he moans and flattens her against the wall. She feeds then, devouring his orgasm and swallowing it whole once he felt its satisfaction. She takes his lust too, taking and taking, trying to find something, anything that will fill her up. Her feeding is a double-edged blade, drawing out his lust for her as she forges that connection between them. He continues to fuck her until he's no longer hard or half-hard and there's nothing left for her to eat but the dull knot of pulsing energy that's his libido and sex drive.

She eats that too, cracking it open like a nut and slurping down the insides. The energy winked out and so did any sexual desire he would ever feel to anyone or anything else.

The knot settled heavily along her skin. She could feel her energy churning like a stomach did before vomiting. She forced the energy back under control, trying to smooth it out.

It's a relief when he pulls out of her. She feels the mix of arousal and relief slide down her leg and feels a flush of disgust at the mess. The man neatened his clothes, tucked his dick back into his pants. Aside from his florid face and a damp spot on his clothes, he could easily be mistaken for a respectable member of society. And with the misting rain, no one was going ask questions about a little bit of wet cloth.

She's not quite so lucky. But her skirt is long enough to hide the slick that continues to drip down her leg and she has wipes stored in her bag to clean herself up after this. He tossed her a wad of cash as she tried to pull her skirt back up over hips. It bounced off her thigh and tumbled into a puddle. She knew a tip when she saw one, but had enough dignity left in her soul to not go diving after it.

"Not bad. You'd be a better fuck if you unbent a little. Just so you know, most men like it when women let them know they're doing a good job." He walked away. She wondered how long it would be before he noticed a certain lack of a sex drive.

Her world swam at the edges. The man's lust had not been a good meal and it sat heavily like an oil slick on her wings, making them sting and burn. She couldn't hold onto it and couldn't absorb it. She stumbled, fell to her hands and knees. With a frustrated scream, she rejected the entire meal, sending the useless energy out into the universe for some interdimensional parasite to feast on. She hoped they found it pleasant. Someone might as well benefit from her work, even if it wasn't her.

She was so hungry.

_"Remember monsters, SIA is for your benefit."_

The announcement clicked off. Normal advertisements resumed. She stood up, aching and cold. She could feel her magic healing her, albeit slowly. It might take an entire day to recover from the man's carelessness, maybe two. She would have to find someone who didn't want to fuck her in her sheath and try again. At least the tip was decent.

She was tired. And cold.

And so very _hungry._

* * *

The incubus was on the hunt.

There was a scent in the air. No, not quite a scent. There was no scent, no actual taste. But if there had been a taste, it would be sweet as honey. Sweeter, more subtle and layered. It raised heat in her blood, put all her senses on a high alert.

The world sharpened into focus. The fine mist of droplets falling from the sky. The rumble of thunder over the thrum of the engines and machinery. People moved slowly here, except for the children. The children ran still, the world was still big and open and new. She smelled the haze of pollution, the scent of sweat and refuse and bodies pushed past their limits. It was almost too intense to bear as she filtered out the information, narrowed her focus.

And it slipped from her again, like smoke through her fingers.

She huffed. She dressed in common clothes, bought from the same racks that these people bought theirs. But she stood tall and walked with purpose and energy. People cut a wide berth for her. She might look like one of them but she wasn't and they knew it. She was different. She walked like a crime boss, like someone who had clawed their way to power and now wore it as a trophy. Wisely, they stayed away from her.

The incubus had tracked the presence across the entire city and back again. It was a ghost of something familiar, taunting her. She'd asked around in the smokey bars where monsters gathered to be with their own kind. A few discrete questions had yielded unsatisfactory answers. No one had seen a demon in years, much less the kind she was on the hunt for. She was the first they knew of. But she knew there was a succubus here. She'd gotten close, a handful of times.

"Stupid," she grumbled to herself. Succubi were more common than incubi, but the vast majority of them that weren't in hell had been trafficked across the dimensions as sex slaves. This pathetic city of humans was too far from the beaten path, too poor in magic and resources, to afford one slave, much less house a free succubi population. "Stupid, stupid, letting a succubus pet drive you senseless."

The incubus turned away, stalking down the streets. She'd walked in enough circles tonight. Whatever the succubus was doing to hide their presence, it was both frustratingly effective and annoyingly inefficient.

"You look lonely, mistress," a familiar voice called out. "Perhaps you'd enjoy some company on this cold night?"

The incubus whirled around, claws out. She didn't know who dared to use--

Except it was _her_. Whole and perfect and just as the incubus remembered her. Fine, she was fine, she was okay. Well, maybe not. She was bone-thin, worn out like shadows in the desert. Her clothes were thinner, the damp fabric clinging to her skin, hiding almost nothing. Her eyes were large, those bright, bright eyes that had drawn the incubus the first time she'd laid eyes on her, all those millennia ago.

The bright eyes that she'd put out, hundreds of years ago. They'd been the first to go. She still remembered the short cries, the way her kitten had stood so very still. She'd only begun to fight when the pain had become overwhelming.

And here were her kitten's eyes again, staring out of a human's face. The incubus didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. She knew she wanted this woman, wanted her more than anything else. She wanted her and she didn't care _how_ she got her in the end, as long as the woman was hers and only hers.

The woman didn't speak again. She smelled of sex already. Given the way that she'd approached the incubus, she was probably some sort of prostitute.

"Mistress?" the woman asked again. She stuttered over the word. It was merely polite here, a social nicety. But once upon a time, so many years ago, it had been more than that. The incubus watched as the human rested one hand lightly on her collarbone. An acted affection-- she of all people should know the difference. "It's quite cold."

"Indeed it is," the incubus said. What the hell? Why not? For one night, maybe she could pretend that this woman was her. For one night. For one round. She walked up to the woman, who moved back into the shadows of the alleyway. "Too cold for a little stray to wander the streets all on her own. She could freeze without someone to warm her up."

"Oh, yes," the woman said. She knew the streets well, drew the incubus into a niche where they would have some form of privacy. That told the woman all she knew about the woman's situation as if her clothes and the gauntness of her body weren't enough. It made the incubus's heart ache. No. She would not have her kit-- this _human_ woman who looked so much like her kitten-- in a freezing cold alleyway, with nothing but clothes to soften her back. No. "That's just what a stray needs."

If she was going to pretend for a night, she was going to do this the right way.

"I have a better offer, stray kitten," the incubus stepped in and then around the woman. How easily it came back to her, the banter that had always been there between them. She leaned against the far wall of the cul-de-sac, let the woman have a straight line to the exit if she wanted it. "A night in a warm bed and food to nourish a kitten's growth."

The woman drew back slightly. Mistrust simmered in her eyes, alongside the desperation that had driven her to approach the incubus. She'd picked the incubus as her target for a reason. She was a cautious one, this little stray, but the incubus had a feeling that desperation would win the battle. The incubus didn't push her, let her think it through.

"Perhaps," the woman said. "A stray kitten would enjoy such an arrangement immensely."

The incubus smiled and stepped closer to her. She reached out, ran her fingers through the prostitute's hair. It was a pale blonde, streaked with pink and gold like a dawning cloud. The mist weighed it down. The incubus wondered if it would fluff up into curls when it dried the way that her kitten's hair had. Would that one little thing be different? The woman tilted her head against the incubus's hand. Her movements were scripted. The incubus could sense her tension.

"How much do you charge, little kitten?" she asked, planning to double whatever it was. Triple it. She didn't care. "For a night?"

"I charge by act," she said. "But for the offer of food? You get a kiss or two for free."

The incubus chuckled. The woman was short. The incubus had to bend to press her lips to the woman's. She kept it gentle-- mostly, she couldn't help just the slightest nibble--letting the woman dictate the pace. The woman's breath hitched slightly in her chest. Her tongue flicked out, brushed nervously against the incubus's lips and then pulled back as if she were afraid of going further.

Of all the things to be honest about, the incubus thought. A shy prostitute. It made for an interesting combination. It reminded her of-- of her long-lost kitten. Even after several millennia, her kitten had always flushed when the incubus had suggested one activity or another.

"Ever kiss a woman before?" the incubus asked softly against the woman's lips. "It's okay. You can go deeper. I don't bite." _Much._ "Not unless you ask."

The woman deepened the kiss slowly. Tension in her body eased. The incubus could feel her desire but left it alone. It was too tightly controlled, too suppressed. The woman would open up at her own rate. Trying to take in her desire now would hurt her. She was a good kisser, the incubus thought, enjoying it as the woman deepened the kiss further. She paused whenever the incubus began to reciprocate. It was as if she was waiting for the incubus to do-- something. Her desire faded then, pulled back under her will. Automatically, her hands lifted to her blouse, blank as a stone wall. The incubus caught them quickly.

"Kitten, I believe I promised you a warm bed and a meal." She looked at the incubus as if trying to comprehend. The incubus wondered, briefly, if she was so used to be fucked wherever she stood as soon as a deal had been struck that the concept of using a bed was unfamiliar to her. It made fury bubble slowly through her veins, a very different kind of heat, a different passion. How dare someone treat her kitten-- Not her kitten, her rational mind said.

Her kitten had been cut apart, flesh ground up and fed to the dogs. She could be reborn on the hatching grounds if enough of her essence returned, it was true. But the chances were vanishingly slim. But she looked just like her kitten and she acted just like her kitten--

"You do know how to use a bed, don't you?" the incubus asked.

"Of course I do," not-Kitten sounded ever so slightly affronted and the incubus just had to smile. She offered the not-Kitten her hand.

"I promise you," she said, "You'll like mine." _So stay with me, forever._

The not-Kitten took the incubus's hand hesitantly and nodded.

* * *

The succubus was tired.

The night had been exactly as long as she thought it had been and utterly fruitless. The meals she got, she couldn't keep down, so to speak. She'd been on the brink of giving up when the client had appeared in front of her, out of nowhere.

And it was her. She was the one who was extruding that not-scent that drew the succubus like a moth to a flame. She was the one with honeyed lust, matured and thick, and it made the succubus drool to think of tasting it. Something deep in her told her that if she snacked on the woman, she'd get a full course meal.

So she'd approached her. And when the woman had offered to take her on a bed and give her food, all the horror stories the other prostitutes told flashed through her mind at once.

But she was hungry. She was cold. The thought of being taken on a bed instead of the ground or the wall was akin to a thought of heaven. And food. Maybe she couldn't eat human food anymore but just the thought of it made her stomach growl (so to speak). It was probably a bad idea. The woman stank of power, it oozed from every pore. She expected the woman to have her way but she'd let the succubus take the lead in the kisses.

Was she acting to lure the succubus in or was it an honest desire? The succubs didn't know the answer.

But she was hungry and cold.

And the hunger and the cold won out against her better sense.

She leaned up against the client in the flyer the woman had waved down. They'd sped through the city, faster than the succubus had ever gone before. Soon they'd left the 21st Precinct behind entirely. She turned to look out her window as the slum vanished and wondered, briefly, if she'd made a mistake. Too late to turn back now. The client didn't seem bothered by the succubus. Her hand rested on the succubus's thigh. Not doing anything, not as a possessive reminder of what the succubus was being paid to do, it was just there, warm and reassuring. Her eyes looked out the window, but the succubus didn't think she was seeing the city at all as it flowed past.

"Mistress," the succubus asked and the woman looked back at her, lips twitching into a fond smile one that faded quickly. "What do you want me to do when I get to your place?"

"Ah, yes," the woman said. "What are your prices?"

"A hundred credits for vaginal sex, two hundred for anal--" It wasn't that she didn't like anal, it was that none of her clients bothered to prep themselves or her. And it was bad enough when they claimed their pleasure using the original hole designated for the purpose. "And fifty for oral."

"Do you kinky things?" the client asked and a cold knot formed in the succubus's stomach.

"Upon prior arrangement," she said. Most of her clients never bothered with the 'prior arrangement'. The client nodded absently.

"Fair enough, kitten. Would two thousand credits be enough for the entire night?"

She boggled at the number. "Two thousand?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what I want to do and I don't want to underpay if I lose track of what happens," the client said. Her lips curved into a smile. "Two-- two thousand should be enough," the succubus stuttered. For a moment, they sat in silence. The woman's hand began to stroke the succubus's leg. It was a gentle touch, and somehow that made her tense up more than anything else that a client had done.

The flyer slowed in front of a mass of apartment buildings. They were made of all glass, towering into the sky. She'd never seen the like before and stayed close to the client as the client paid the flyer and then swiped a card to be let into the building. There was a small beep and then a door slid open. They stepped through and the door closed behind them. A soft whir started up and the platform lifted up while the ground fell far, far behind at a dizzing speed. The succubus fought the urge to cling to the client.

She didn't pay attention as they walked through the hallways and then slipped into a dark apartment. The client ddn't turn the lights on, but that was okay. Through massive windows, the succubus watched as the storm closed in, rain pelting the windows and hazing them completely. The client tugged her hand gently. The succubus followed her through the apartment and into another room.

There was a bed there. It was warm, as promised. The sheets heated underneath the succubus's hand when she ran her fingers over them gently. She'd never heard of such a thing, couldn't dream of a luxury like self-heating sheets. She expected to be pushed onto the bed, or for the woman to sit down and open her legs. She waited for the order, for the woman to show her true colors, now that she had the succubus tangled in her web. She waited for the night to turn rough, for the woman to take and take and take.

Instead, the client kissed her again. This time, the client didn't hold back, but the kiss felt like a gift to the succubus. It was a kiss focused on one thing, and that was making her moan in pleasure-- true pleasure, not the false kind she conjured for her other clients. She kissed back. Hands slid around her hips, to her back. She was being embraced, and she felt the woman shaking slightly.

"Kitten," the woman said, when she broke off the kiss. "My sweet kitten, look at you."

The succubus kissed her again, ran her fingers through the woman's hair. She was the one to gently push the client onto the bed. The mattress gave softly beneath them, still firm enough to support her aching body. Her position on top didn't last long. The client rolled her over.

"Sweet kitten," the woman murmured. "It's been so very long since I've had you."

The succubus thought that the woman was projecting, but didn't mind. The woman nuzzled her neck, slipped down. When she pressed a kiss between the succubus's legs, it was as tender and as gentle-- as soft-- as the rest of her embraces had been. Her lust tasted of sweet things, of a desire to please, rather than be pleased and it was a subtle thing but it made all the difference. The succubus moaned, arching her hips slightly to allow the client better access to her body. The client's tongue skillfully swept along the entrance, then probed deeper. She moaned as the woman licked and sucked, kissed. Her breath fluttered over the succubus's body, growing hot quickly.

"I'll make up for it, kitten," she thought she heard the woman say or maybe it was in her head. That happened sometimes. Not often, but sometimes. "I'll make up for everything. You'll see. Just lay there kitten. Lay there and let me make it up to you. You don't have to do a thing. Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

The client didn't love her. The succubus knew that. But it was hard to remember it, when the client was touching her so gently, as if she was a prize that needed to be protected. As if she, with all her flaws, was something to be admired. Something that was desired for what it was, not for what it did or what it could do and was then tossed aside.

She moaned as the woman brought her to climax again and again. They rolled over her in slow waves, the intensity building and breaking gently. It left her shaking as she brought her lips to the client's, tasted herself on the woman's tongue. They kissed and maybe the client didn't love her but it was impossible to tell.

She swiped her fingers across the client's cheeks, brushing away the tears. it was so easy to get sucked up into a fantasy. She turned them over in the bed, attended to the client with every skill she knew and came up with others on the spot, feeling the way the woman reacted underneath her. She hadn't often lain with women and felt subpar, but the woman moaned and shuddered and she could feel the rise and fall of a climax and thought she was doing a good enough job.

The woman pressed herself against the succubus, hands tangled in her hair. The storm raged. The night passed slowly. It didn't feel like a rough tumble, the clinical endurance that the succubus drew around her shoulders. She lowered her barriers cautiously, let herself feel the sensations, welcoming them for the first time in years. It felt like days, but it was only hours. The succubus tired quickly, limbs going limp as her energy left her. The other woman nuzzled her as she slid them both underneath the blankets, wrapping her arms around the succubus's shoulders.

And, just for one night, the succubus gave into the illusion of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> Firstly, this is my first work ever posted, so I may have missed something in the tags. If there's something you think should be tagged and isn't, just leave me a comment and let me know!
> 
> Secondly, this fic was originally started for kinktober and was meant to be mostly kinktober prompts interspersed with fluffy interludes. That did not happen since the plot spiraled a bit beyond my control. That being said, I have tried to keep the sex-focused chapters and kinktober prompts separate from the main plot chapters. Kinktober-centric chapters are indicated with a 'Prompt' introduction instead of 'Number - X'.
> 
> I'm currently working through them and trying to put a list of kinks and possible content warnings at the start of the kinktober chapters and regular chapters to avoid crowding out the tags while still giving a heads-up to readers. Mostly the kinktober ones. Again, if I miss something you think should be tagged, please tell me.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the story!
> 
> *edited 3/5/2021


	2. Two - Opportunities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The incubus longs for the past. The succubus longs for knowledge.

#### Two Thousand Years Ago

#### Palace of Red Twilights, Hell

The incubus's name couldn't be translated into human sounds. It was an expression of her strength, physical and magical, her dreams and desires, her weaknesses. Her name was who she was, on the deepest and most intimate level. It changed as she grew in experiences, settled as she found who she was and became comfortable in that. Two people knew her name including herself. The other one was her queen.

The incubus had been a great general of her people, leading many successful battles against demons in other planes and against the angels when the angels got too pushy. Her dresses had leather stitched onto them like armour made of scales and bones. The black silk skirts swirled around her legs. At one hip, the bladed whip that was her favourite weapon was coiled. On the other hip was a set of long daggers.

She was the only one who wore weapons in the queen's presence. She was the only one who didn't need to submit before her.

"I've gotten you a gift," the queen said, as the general walked up to her. The two of them stood on a balcony, overlooking the vast hatching grounds. There were two, one for the incubi and one for the succubi. Deep red eggs, as large as a full-grown demon, protruded upwards from the blood-soaked earth. Clusters of smaller eggs surrounded them. Not all demons came back from death. Sometimes their essence was too scattered, sometimes no one called their names to keep them together and they dissolved, mingling with other demons and producing hundreds more.

The general glanced at her queen. "A gift?"

"To teach you the value of relaxation," the queen's lips tugged slightly upwards at the corners. "Since you refuse to listen to your queen's orders, I've found something else to tempt you into lightening up every now and then."

"I listen to you," the general said. "When it's important. And I relax plenty when I'm here. What did you call last night's feast?"

"My love," the queen sighed. "You train from dawn to dusk. Even when you're here, I barely see you and then you're gone again." She started down the walkway, to her apartment. The general followed, easily keeping pace with the shorter (but far more deadly) queen. "And I don't count formal functions as 'relaxing'."

"Fair enough," the general admitted. "What is this gift of yours?" The queen took the general's hand, running the pads of her fingers lightly against the general's palm.

"I realized last night that you never had a pet for your own."

"I don't need one," the general said. Truthfully she'd never been able to afford one and now she was far too busy to go through the laborious process of picking one out, having it trained to her specifications, and then the long process of properly bonding it to her.

"It is still an oversight and a dangerous one," the queen said. "And this way, you can take a token of my love with you on your campaigns." The queen stepped through a fluttering curtain and the general followed behind. They were in the queen's bedchamber, a minimalist space. The queen preferred clean lines and open space when she was thinking.

On the bed kneeled a succubus. She had the sweet scent of an unbonded succubus, her pheromones thick and heavy in the air. She wore a gauzy dress, a mere wrap of cloth. Her eyes were focused on the bedspread. Her wings were folded neatly against her back, soft black velvet lightening to burnished rose gold at the tips. Her tail rested neatly in her lap, her fingers nervously fiddling with the plume of silky black fur that decorated its tip.

"Pet," the queen said. "Look up." The pet lifted her gaze. Her eyes-- they were the most magnificent thing the incubus had ever seen. Warm bronze around the edges, lightening to a shade of gold near the pupils. Flecks of pink and orange softened the colours, made them look like a dawn sky. They echoed the colour of her hair, white and pink and gold, curling softly over her shoulders.

"She is exquisite," the general admitted. "What's her name?"

The queen spoke the succubus's name and the succubus shivered. It was a name that implied delicate frost lace on windowpanes, of fragile blossoms and petals falling away in the gentlest of breezes. It was a name that spoke of ephemeral things, temporary and transient and beyond all beauty.

She was-- Perfect.

"She is ready to bond," the queen said. "I've done all the work already. All you need to do is claim her."

The general laced her rough, calloused fingers through the queen's soft ones. "Let us both claim her, my love. Let her be ours, as everything shall be soon enough. Let her be the first thing we share." 

The queen smiled. Together, they climbed onto the bed with the succubus.

* * *

#### Present Day

#### 2nd Precinct, Thallassa

The succubus never had a name. The people at the orphanage had called her "Twelve" after the day she'd been born. When her wings had manifested, she'd lost even that poor excuse for a name and became whatever the people visiting her wanted to call her. With clients, it was a similar deal-- they called her whatever they wanted to call her and very rarely was that a proper name. She was the slut, the whore, the succubus. Her human ID had a name on it, but that wasn't any more real than any other name. It wasn't right, in that fundamental way a name should be right.

She didn't know at all, which left her unsettled. She should know her name, she thought. Know it and guard it carefully against all others.

She woke up before the client and wrapped her arms around her legs, rested her head on her knees. She felt hot, almost overheated from the warmth of the sheets and the client's body. It was relaxing, it felt right, but it was also unfamiliar and she found herself sweating and climbing out from underneath the blankets to cool off. The rest of the room was starting to brighten up.

The sky was as grey as always-- the storms rarely let up for long in the winter. Rain blurred the world outside of it. She'd never seen such bright colours outside the window. From here, the city looked beautiful, rather than dirty and broken. Odd how a different perspective could reveal beauty, erase suffering. The succubus wasn't really sure how to feel about it.

The client was murmuring softly in her sleep. It was all in a foreign language, but a certain set of syllables stuck out and struck the succubus's soul. A sensation like the tolling of a bell rolled through her heart and body. It left her shivering and something deep inside of her, buried in forgotten instincts told her that she shouldn't forget what she heard and she should never let anyone speak it aloud again.

She picked out one syllable, near the middle. Mirri. It felt familiar. She liked it, liked the way it rolled against her tongue when she whispered it softly. Mirri. Mirri. Mirri.

She glanced down at the woman by her side. The woman's lust and pleasure had been like eating something from a divine table. The energy lingered in the succubus like an eight-course meal. She still felt stuffed, her wings relaxed and heavy. They were cramping in the binding she'd wrapped around her shoulders to keep them folded away. She rolled her shoulders in a futile attempt to ease the pressure.

Perhaps she could convince the client into making this more than a one-time thing. She was the best meal that the succubus had ever eaten and there was no way she was going to give that up now. She didn't like the idea of going back to starving in the streets now that she knew an alternative existed. It wouldn't take much, just a nudge. Just a little nudge to make sure the woman's lust kept her coming back. She'd done it before, on accident.

She licked her lips slightly, edged closer to the woman. Carefully, she reached behind her back and began to undo the binding on her wings. The binding did a lot of things, but most importantly it suppressed an aura that drove everyone with a shred of sexual desire to notice her and start lusting after her. Most of the time they left her alone. Sometimes they lost track of everything but their lust and that was... messy.

It also kept her wings from popping out at inappropriate times during sex which also tended to be messy, but for different reasons.

The succubus could nudge people's lust, but it had a fifty-fifty success rate with the binding on. With the binding off, that success rate increased dramatically. It wasn't subtle, but the client was asleep now. Her dreams could withstand a less-than-subtle nudge.

The binding fell from her shoulders. The succubus coiled up the thin black rope, which had been soaked in water steeped with rosemary, sage, and thyme leaves and then mixed with salt. It stung when she put it on, but the sting quickly faded.

She carefully unfurled her wings, drawing them out of the aether and into the physical realm. She spread them as she shifted on the bed slightly, trying to keep her balance as she moved. Her wings felt awkward on her shoulders, heavy and graceless. Her tail popped out soon after her wings and she sighed when the claws on her feet shredded her shoes. A few seconds later, her feet had transformed so that her legs were bent like a cat's and she balanced on the balls of her feet when she stood.

She really had to get a hang on her transformation.

She wished she had a teacher, but monsters were rare in this part of space and she'd never encountered another succubus.

 _Focus,_ she thought to herself, turning her attention to the client, who was still sleeping. Just a gentle nudge--

The client's eyes snapped open before the succubus could do anything. The succubus yelped when she was pinned against the pillows, the client straddling her hips. She froze in place, waited for the woman to take her roughly-- she should have known the sweetness wouldn't last.

The client panted for breath. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, pupils so dilated that the succubus could only see a thin ring of bronze. "You're a succubus," the client breathed out slowly. She inhaled slow and deep.

The succubus flinched, waited for the scream of horror, the threat of turning her over to the government. Her tail coiled nervously as the two of them sat like that for a minute.

"What were you doing?" the client asked, her gaze meeting the succubus's eyes.

She thought about lying, but it was as if something had ahold of her tongue. Instead of 'stretching my wings', she babbled, "I've been starving for so long and you're the first meal that's stayed down in weeks. I'm hungry. I just wanted you to visit me regularly because you taste good and I feel full now. I'm sorry, I won't do it again. I'll leave, just don't turn me in, please."

The client sat up. "Where did you come from, little succubus? What are you doing here?"

"I was born here," the succubus stuttered out. "This is my only home."

"How did you hide what you were from me?"

The succubus handed her the black rope The client inspected it for a moment.

"Effective enough. But it's going to poison you, little succubus."

"Poison?" she asked. "It just said it'd suppress a demon's abilities."

"By weakening them through poison," the client said. "Who raised you?"

"How do you know that?" the succubus asked. "Are you some sort of hunter?" Her breath hitched in her lungs fearfully.

The client shook her head. "I'm an incubus. You could say that our peoples were born together, two sides of a coin. Have you never met another of your own kind?"

"I've never even met another demon," the succubus rubbed her arms. "Is the poison why I couldn't eat from humans?"

"Possibly. Probably," the incubus said. She studied the succubus. "What do you know about your kind?"

"That we were made for sex," the succubus admitted. "After that... not much else." She paused. "If we're alike, could you-- teach me? About demons and succubi and how to not turn into this--" She pointed at herself. "Every time I take off the binding?"

"I can," the client said slowly. "But I leave here in three months. That's not a lot of time, little succubus."

"Oh," the succubus's shoulders slumped slightly.

The client looked her over. "Perhaps-- perhaps an arrangement could be made, however. It has been a long time since I've had a succubus as a companion. I find I miss the company of your kind. So how does this sound-- I will take care of your needs and teach you, little succubus. In exchange, I would like you to stay here and make yourself available to me."

The succubus had sold sex for less than noble reasons. Still, alarm bells were going off in her head again. They spoke of prostitutes lured away and trafficked. No one ever saw them again. They spoke of darker things, of prostitutes hidden away in walls and boxes. But-- this was Thalassia. Sure the capital city was pretty but it was human. This was the first demon she'd met in a hundred years-- when was she going to meet another? Should she take the chance? Did she dare to take the chance?

She'd run away from the orphanage, seduced a client into kidnapping her and stealing her away. It was easier to get away from one person than many. She'd taken that chance. She'd learned how to bind her wings, make money with her body. She risked her life every day for rewards less than this.

It's worth it, she thought.

"Available in what way?" the succubus asked.

"That is negotiable. I would prefer to have you as a submissive-- do you know what that is?"

"Yes." The succubus swallowed nervously. She'd played submissive, slave, and pet all at various intervals. She'd always felt ill at the mix of pain and humiliation and her own arousal and delight. There was something in her that enjoyed it and always had-- and there was the part of her that recoiled because it left her feeling worse than her normal round of unsatisfactory meals.

"But only if you are comfortable with such a position," the client said.

The succubus smoothed her hands across the bedspread. "Can you promise it wouldn't-- it wouldn't hurt? You wouldn't whip me or cut me up because I can heal in seconds? Or burn me or drip holy water on me, or share me with a group of buddies and then just leave me to clean up? You said you'd take care of me right? If you want that, you'll take care of me?"

She realized she was shaking badly.

"Kitten--" the client asked carefully. She sounded like she was on the verge of anger. "Did they not-- did they leave you alone afterward? By yourself?"

"They paid me. Their time was done." Sometimes they went over, did more. Sometimes it had taken her hours to stand up, clean herself off, move onto the next group. Sometimes she curled up in her bed for days, trying to convince herself to go back outside the door.

"That's not-- I can promise you kitten, I swear to you by all that I am, that if I ever raise a whip to you, it's because you wanted to play with one and I will always care for you afterward."

Something in the succubus shivered when the client swore. It felt as if the universe was listening in on the promise and would ensure that she kept it, in word and spirit.

She paused and then gave a small nod. "Can we work up to it? The-- the submissive stuff? I--" _I want to trust you but I don't know if I can._

"Of course, kitten," the client said.

"Then, I think I'm okay with it." The succubus added, almost shyly. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to treat me like a pet, once in a while."

"I'll keep that in mind, kitten." The client grinned slightly. "Do you find everything acceptable?"

"What happens in three months?" the succubus asked. "Where are you going?"

"Back home." She reached out, smoothed the succubus's hair gently. "You shouldn't follow me, little kitten. You are an unbonded succubus. You're safe here, with humans and other monsters. But demons will know what you are immediately and that would make you a target. I will be going to lead our people in battle-- I could not promise you protection if you returned with me. Three months will give me the time to teach you the basics and to provide you with enough knowledge that you can understand intermediate material if I provide it."

The succubus nodded her head. "Three months then."

"Three months, kitten."

"I-- I accept your proposal," the succubus said, feeling a bit silly, but formally stating it also felt right.

The client smiled. "And now to the most important matter of all."

The succubus looked up, alarmed. "You may call me Lilian, little kitten. What may I call you?"

The succubus thought about all the names she'd been given over the years. And here was a chance to chose one for herself. "Mirri. Call me Mirri."


	3. Prompt - Stripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The succubus is looking to the future. The Incubus is glad to have a model.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinks: Stripping, exhibitionism, slight marking, minor bondage

**Lilian's Apartment, Thalassia**

Lilian provided outfits, a uniform of sorts, that Mirri was to wear when she wasn't actively playing the part of a pet. They were similar to Mirri's normal clothes-- blouse, skirt, leggings-- just higher in quality and with subtle variations. Mirri still had a hard time believing that she was allowed to wear such things. Her hands felt along the silk, smooth and cool to the touch like water. Delicate floral embroidery decorated the shoulders of the steel blue blouse she was wearing like a frosting of lace. The skirt was made of heavier material; fine wool that was matte, more structured, and the colour of stormy skies.

Two days had passed since they'd made their agreement. Lilian hadn't yet called for Mirri's services, and Mirri didn't mind just sitting by Lilian's side, reading through the primers that Lilian had picked up for her. Sometimes Lilian would stroke her leg, her shoulder, or her hair, depending on which part of her was in reach. Mirri found she didn't mind that idle attention either, once she learned that Lilian wasn't really focused on her at all.

Lilian raised her voice and Mirri could feel her anger. She was in her office now, a room that Mirri wasn't really allowed to go in. Whatever the argument, it seemed bad.

Mirri stuck her head back down into her book, trying to drown out the sound with words. She read slowly-- no one had cared much about her education, even before she'd been told working on a bed was all that she was good for-- and she was easily distracted. She knew enough to read and vaguely remembered liking reading, but it'd been so long since she'd gotten her hands on an actual book. The ability was coming back to her slowly, though it wasn't helped much by the dense nature of the text.

_\--Demons are classified as M-Type, E-Class monsters, with an Angelic categorization. They naturally inhabit nine planes, which are commonly referred to as the nine circles of hell, where they reproduce and return to when they die. Fundamentally--_

Lilian started shouting in another room, really shouting. Mirri flinched and wilted into the couch as a door slammed. Seconds later, Lilian stalked out, an aura of fury radiating off of her so strongly that Mirri wondered why the entire apartment didn't burst into flames.

Lilian took deep breaths and made it to the kitchen. She filled a glass of water and drank it, looking like she wished it was something stronger. Mirri stuck her nose back into the book and then glanced back up at Lilian. The woman took another deep breath, breathed out a cloud of smoke, and then noticed Mirri.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Mirri realized she was still cowering. She forced herself to sit up. "I wasn't frightened. You just startled me."

"In that case, I'm sorry for startling you," Lilian walked over and sat down on the other end of the couch. "A friend once said that my temper would always get the better of me."

"What's wrong?" Mirri asked. "That sounded... bad."

"Oh... just some difficulties with a model," Lilian said. "She's being-- well, it's a stressful life, I can understand. But this is the fifth time we've rescheduled and I need to get my submission into the White Rose Runway by the end of the week if I want to have a chance at getting featured in the next magazine."

"That's in three days," Mirri said.

"And she won't be available before then," Lilian blew her hair out of her face. "I've worked hard to be known as a reputable designer. It's... burns a bit, not being able to make my first submission to a big magazine on time."

"What's White Rose Runway?" "Ah, a fashion magazine for the more-- hm, how to put this-- those who like to live by a kinkier lifestyle than normal."

"I'm not an idiot, or innocent. You can say BDSM," Mirri rolled her eyes.

Lilian chuckled. "I design toys and lingerie. Call it a hobby of mine. Never can find what I wanted so I decided to look into making my own."

Mirri hesitated a bit, but-- well if she understood anything, it was the pain of falling short of a goal you'd set for yourself. And it was for such a stupid reason too-- hm...

Models were paid reasonable amounts of money. They sold their bodies, but only the appearance of it. She didn't mind being dressed up, as her shopping spree with Lilian had proven. She knew she was beautiful, even if it was just someone else's opinion. She'd never had another option before, other than working on her back-- no one would take Mirri-from-the-Alleyway for any work other than that of a prostitute. But, she fingered the fine wool of her skirt. Maybe they'd take Lilian's-Mirri. The one who dressed as if she'd always had money. Appearance was everything. If she didn't look like she'd crawled out of the gutter-- what options were there for her?

The world suddenly opened before her, yawning with its possibilities.

Who said she had to go back, once the three months were over?

"I'll live a long time, kitten. There'll be other chances for me," Lilian looked out the window and sighed.

"Well..." Mirri shifted her feet slightly. "What if I modelled for you?"

Lilian glanced at her. "I couldn't ask you to do that, kitten. It's my problem."

"But I'm asking," Mirri said. "It's unfair that you should lose your opportunity because someone else couldn't keep a schedule straight."

"You have a straightforward view of the world, kitten," Lilian said.

"It's something I can fix," Mirri said. "Why shouldn't it be simple?"

Lilian ruffled her hair and then looked her over. "You should be close enough in size. And none of the pieces being shown are clothes where proper fit matters..." She seemed thoughtful, and Mirri's heart leapt at the fact that she was actually considering this. "Alright kitten, if you want to. Tell you what, I'll give you Leda's commission price, plus a bonus."

Mirri hadn't expected Lilian to do that. "You will?"

Lilian smirked. "And you were just talking about fairness in this world, kitten. Yes, I will. Stay here while I get everything set up. Actually--" she paused and looked Mirri over. "Change into the blush blouse and the ivory skirt. That'll fit the tone better, I think." Mirri marked her place and set the book aside.

"And don't forget stockings," Lilian called. She was already hurrying into another room. "Kitten, you have no idea how much this means to me."

Half an hour later, Lilian finished prepping Mirri's face with a light dusting of makeup to smooth out any flaws and then eyeshadow to bring attention to Mirri's eyes. Lilian fussed over the colour of Mirri's lips before picking a delicate shade of rose that was only slightly darker than Mirri's lips.

"There," Lilian said and pulled the front of Mirri's hair into an elegant twist. The rest spilled down her shoulders. "You're ready."

"What do I have to do?" Mirri asked.

Arranged neatly on a table were a wide array of items. She recognized gags, plugs, a variety of fake phalluses of varying sizes that could be strapped onto a harness, cuffs, bars-- there were even crops, whips, and paddles.

"Let's see," Lilian looked at Mirri thoughtfully. The room was draped in black cloth that seemed to absorb all the light that touched it. A bed had been shoved up against one wall. Lilian was ignoring it and she picked up a gag off of a table. It was shaped like an ordinary ball with decorative accents on the thin straps that would fasten around Mirri's head. For a gag, it was very elegant. "Classics first."

Mirri accepted the gag and put it on. Lilian helped her with the clasp. The silicone was soft against her lips and tongue. She bit down and it gave in a surprisingly satisfactory way.

"Grrr," she tried to growl through it, unable to help the giggles that escaped her. "Rar!"

Lilian smirked as she picked up a set of fancy-looking cuffs linked by a chain. She fastened them around Mirri's wrists, the short chain restricting Mirri's movement more than she thought they would. She undid the top few buttons on Mirri's blouse and pushed one shoulder off. "Cute, kitten. Cute. Give me your best ravish-me look."

Mirri thought about it as Lilian picked up her camera. Mirri paused and then arranged her hands over her breast, fingers curling around the edges of the blouse as if she was going to pull it off further or pull it back on. She glanced up at the camera, trying to give it her best soulful look as if to say, 'come hither'.

"Oh, not bad, kitten." LIlian called out corrections, asking Mirri to lift an elbow higher, ease a foot back. Tilt her head. The camera flashed with each change. Mirri was dazzled by the light, but not bothered by it. It was... fun, really. She tilted her head back, exposed her bare throat, spread her fingers along it knowing that attention would be drawn to them. Wrists bound, she couldn't move them far apart, but she lifted her bare shoulder, leaned forward slightly and knew the camera could see straight down the blouse. Button by button, it came further undone.

"Fantastic, kitten," Lilian laughed. "You're a natural for the camera. Lean away from me slightly, yes, like that, as if you're trying to protect yourself." Lilian shifted her hands across her bared skin as if to block it from sight a she shot the camera a look. The other shoulder of her blouse slid down her skin. Goosebumps formed, despite the warmth of the room. "Perfect, just like that--" The camera flashed again.

Lilian set it down and grinned. "Accessory change, kitten. Come back over here." Mirri walked over. Her gag was traded out for a different one, this one worked into a muzzle-like contraption made of leather that fit around her head. Lilian ruffled her hair until it looked as if Mirri had just gotten up from the middle of... something. Her cuffs were switched to a different set, one without a chain, although they had rings as if one could be added, and were all together more sturdy than the last set. Steel had been incoporated into the design, she could feel the weight.

Lilian undid the rest of the buttons on Mirri's blouse and pulled it out from where it was tucked underneath the edge of Mirri's skirt. Her bra was fully revealed now, and the spell-harness for Mirri's wings. LIlian's fingers lingered on the plane of Mirri's belly for a second longer than she should have. And Mirri realized that for the first time, she might be able to be the one to have fun, rather than someone else. And she smiled.

"Alright, kitten, up against the bedpost, this time." Lilian picked up a length of rope. Mirri's shoulders and hips were bound to the bed, her blouse almost falling completely off of her shoulders and mostly trapping her arms as she first pretended to fight the rope, then as if it was the only thing holding her up as she leaned against it, back arched to push out her chest. They slowly worked their way through the decorative ties, Mirri losing any attempt at modesty with every pose, every new toy she was displaying. Mirri's blouse lingered on her body, but her skirt was opened and allowed to slide partially down her hips, revealing her white panties. She slipped her fingers underneath the edge, as if to invite the viewer to guess at what she planned to do with them and knowing that Lilian was behind the camera.

She posed on the floor, her blouse finally shed and spread around her. Her skirt followed her blouse several rounds later and she shivered in stockings, panties and bra. Her harness was in full display, the black ribbons winding strips around her body, sharp contrast against her pale skin. Her hair was let down from its twist and sent in wild cascades across her shoulders. Mirri trailed fingers along her body, knowing how would look to a viewer, and how it would look to Lilian. And maybe she wanted it to look that way.

She know Lilian noticed, for the woman's hands wandered when she wasn't focused, lingering on hip and the curve of Mirri's waist and breasts. Her stockings and panties were kept on, but her bra was dropped first. Mirri undid the clasp when she knew Lilian was watching and slid it smoothly off of her shoulders. She let it all to the floor as Lilian walked over.

"You have pierced nipples?" she asked. "You didn't have pierced nipples before."

"I didn't have piercings in my nipples before," Mirri corrected. "I thought it might look more-- you know for the camera."

"I set aside the piercings because I didn't think you had any," Lilian remarked. "Wait here kitten." She vanished and returned only a few minutes later with a box. She opened it up, reveaing an array of piercings that would make a fashion diva gasp.

Mirri picked out a set of gold rings and fiddled uselessly with the clasp. "I give up," she said. "Could you help me with them?"

"Of course, kitten," Lilian smiled. She reached out and gently opened the clasp. Mirri shivered as Lilian took her breast and helped slide the ring into place. Mirri's nipples, already hardened by the cold, grew harder yet, sensitive nubs of flesh. She shivered, smiled as the other one was placed. Heat flushed through her body. "Thank you," Mirri said. Lilian's fingers lingered longer on Mirri's breasts, traced the curve of the rings. Her hands slid down onto Mirri's waist, following the pink ribbon of the harness. Down, down, down, the tips of her fingers brushing against the inner edge of Mirri's thighs. Mirri looked up at Lilian, wishing she would go further, too shy to actually ask her to.

"You're so sexy, kitten," Lilian murmured. "Modeling you like this feels unlawful. You're too precious to be shared with the world."

Mirri lifted up her hands and ran her fingers through Lilian's hair. "I don't want to go back to the streets, Lilian. After you leave. If I'm a model-- I won't have to. I'd be able to feed myself, be able to get a nice home, be able to get off this rock--"

"Clever kitten," Lilian breathed out. She pressed her lips to Mirri's and Mirri knew there would be a smudge left there. They'd have to redo her makeup, but she wanted Lilian's kisses marked on her body. "Sexy, clever kitten."

"Would it be sexier?" Mirri asked. "If you mark me with your lipstick? Like I've been ravished by you, like I'm yours?"

Lilian drew Mirri into a tighter embrace. Her fingers curled into the harness, holding Mirri in place. "I like that idea very much, kitten. Let them devour your image-- you're mine."

Mirri thought she should be afraid of those words, with their posessive edge. But she shivered and licked her lips in anticipation. She could feel the lust that swept off of Lilian. It wouldn't be bad to be Lilian's. It hadn't been terrible at all this far.

"I like that," Mirri said softly. Her hands tugged at Lilian's waistband and undid the top two buttons. It gave her enough slack that she could run her fingers along the inside of Lilian's legs. "I'd like that."

Lilian shifted slightly. Mirri's legs hit the silk sheets on the bed. She wrapped her arms around Lilian's neck so she couldn't fall as Lilian's skillfull fingers gently tugged Lilian's panties down off her hips. They dropped to the ground. Mirri shivered at the touch of air, even though she was hot in Lilian's embrace.

"Tell me, kitten," LIlian said. "Do you want to be ravished by me?"

"Yes," Mirri said, and meant the words. Something had a hold of her tongue. Desires and fantasies bubbled up, words that she'd never thought she'd speak aloud to a client. But Lilian was different. "Make me helpless and mark me as yours."

"Helpless, hmmm?" Lilian asked. "My, my, kitten. Do you want me to cuff those pretty wrists of yours?" She kissed Mirri's neck, hitting a sweet spot that Mirri didn't know she had. Mirri melted, whimpered as Lilian began to gently suck at the skin there. "Want to be helpless as I make you scream in pleasure?"

"Ye-yes," she said. "I do. I do."

"I'll keep that in mind, kitten," Lilian nudged Mirri so that Mirri fell onto the bed. Mirri spread her legs willingly as Lilian climbed up onto it. "Let's get the rest of your clothes off. When I mark you mine, you're going to wear nothing else."

There was no graceful way to take off the stockings. Mirri did her best to roll them down and then kick them off. Lilian's hands tugged at the harness, undoing its clasps. The silk ribbons fell away, left Mirri's skin completely bared to Lilian. Mirri shuddered as the transformation overtook her, her wings spreading, her tail coiling out. She felt a flash of fear-- would Lilian reject her now? But Lilian only smiled.

"Beautiful," she said. "Perfect little kitten." Her fingers traced patterns on Mirri's skin and left a trail of heat behind them. She kissed Mirri again, on top of her right breast. Mirri gasped at the heat of it, the pressure of Lilian's lips.

"Would you like me to use the toys, little kitten?" Lilian asked. Her fingers curled underneath Mirri's rear. "Such a lovely little ass you have. How cute it would look with a flower blooming from it." Mirri flushed hotter.

"Oh, I know my fingers are good," Lilian said and the words were a velvet purr, "But would you like something a bit longer? A bit thicker? Would you like me to feel a toy fill you up slowly? Innocent little kitten, poor little kitten so very helpless with her wrists cuffed. You can take your pleasure, be resolved of all blame for it. Is that what you want?"

"Ye-yes," Mirri's voice caught slightly. "It is."

Lilian summoned several items off of the table. Mirri had been aware of the beauty of the delicate cuffs but now she could feel the way they held her. They were stronger than they looked. One cuff was snapped around the headboard. She tugged her wrist, an anticipatory thrill running through her body at the restraint.

"You can release yourself from them," Lilian said and demonstrated the little emergency release button. The cuffs popped open. Lilian closed it and cuffed Mirri's other hand to the bed, sliding her hands down Mirri's arms to her shoulders. Mirri moaned softly. "Any time you wish. Release your hands, ask me to stop, I'll back off little kitten."

Mirri nodded and Lilian smiled and stroked her hair lovingly with one hand. With the other, she trailed along Mirri's leg, from knee to thigh, to hip. Her hips twitched when Lilian backed off and began to rub her entrance. She stroked it with her fingers, flicking them in and out until Mirri's hot arousal had settled between her legs as a fierce needy ache and wetness spilled between them.

"Does this feel good, kitten?" Lilian asked.

"Yes," Mirri moaned. "Give me more, please."

"As my kitten wishes," Lilian continued to stroke her. Mirri watched as a small tube came flying in from another room. Lilian caught it easily. "This one's my favorite, kitten," Lilian said. She had a toy in her hand, one that was long and thick. It looked like roots that had been woven together into an appropriate shape, the surface knobby with bumps and dimples. "Only the best for you."

Lilian had pulled oil or a thick gel from somewhere. Mirri watched with wide eyes as Lilian ran her fingers up an down its length, making sure the gel coated every single surface. 

"Just have to make sure it's nice and slippery first." Then she stroked Mirri again, rubbing the gel between Mirri's legs, into her entrance, thoroughly into her sheath. Mirri threw her head back and moaned. The gel was cold at first, but quickly warmed up. It made her feel all slippery. It was a different feeling, but not a bad one.

"So responsive, Kitten," Lilian said. She edged the tip of the toy between Mirri's legs. Mirri waited for the pain, waited for a bit of roughness to catch against her skin, make her cry out from pain. The textured surface rubbed fantastically against her walls, smooth. No pain. None at all. She moaned again, low and deep, shuddering as Lilian carefully eased the toy into her. "You like this don't you?"

"Yes," Mirri gasped out. Mirri's body stretched around the toy. It slid in easy, the sensation of it making her eyes flutter. No pain, none at all. It felt like her body was welcoming it in. Pleasure rippled through her. She rolled her hips, tried to take more of it in. Lilian chuckled and began to play with it, tugging it out and in in shallow bits.

"So eager, Kitten. This isn't a race. We can take the scenic route," Lilian said.

A whine escaped Mirri, high, wordless, and pleading.

"You want more, kitten?" Lilian asked. Her fingers stroked the inside of Mirri's thigh, leaving streaks of gel on Mirri's skin. Mirri squirmed on the toy, drooled around the gag as Lilian began to twist it. "How does this feel, kitten?"

"Yes, yes, yes..." Mirri's eyes fluttered.

"That sounds like encouragement, kitten." Lilian began to thrust in and out slowly with the toy. She changed position and tugged lightly on the rings in Mirri's nipples. Mirri gasped at the senation. She thrust her hips onto the toy and Lilian laughed, picking up her pace.

"Oh, but I need to mark you, kitten," Lilian said. "That was the purpose of this, no?"

She paused slightly and Mirri, who had been starting to reach her peak, groaned when the sensation between her legs slowed, its intensity replaced by the sensation of Lilian's lips as she worked her way down Mirri's body.

She started at the corner of Mirri's lips, then her jaw. Her fingers stroked Mirri's neck, and she approved of the stain there already. Mirri let out a muffled noise as Lilian kissed her other breast, on the nipple this time, her tongue swirling around the ring. Her body twitched, her hips rolled. Lilian worked her way down further. Her fingers traced the outline of Mirri's wings, which shuddered at the contact and sent a flush of heat through Mirri's body. One on the end of her rib cage, one, that felt like it burned with heat, just to the side of her navel.

Lilian planted a kiss each on Mirri's hips, and one on her thigh before she rubbed her figners along the sensitive nub of flesh. Mirri quivered from the attention as Lilian returned her attention to her neck, swiping her tongue across Mirri's hot skin. She moved the toy again, twisting it once more so Mirri felt the bumps sliding across her inner walls.

That was the tipping point-- Mirri cried out as she hit her peak and shuddered as it swept across her entire body, her back arching up into Lilian's hands and mouth. Lilian brought her down gently, easing the toy out of her. She undid the restraints, gently rubbing the skin around Mirri's wrists.

"Oh kitten," she said. "Come to the mirror. You must see yourself."

Mirri's legs felt like jelly. She followed Lilian to a wall and blinked when she saw her reflection staring back at her. Her wings, folded against her back, her tail with its black plume, the shine of fluid and gel on the inside of her legs. Her hair looked messy, a true mess, not the artful messiness that Lilian had orchestrated earlier. Her skin was flushed red. The deep red marks left on her body from Lilian's lipstick. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't perfect. It wasn't designed. It looked like a claim, but not on her body. This was a claim on Mirri herself, the body was just incidental. It satisfied some part of her that Mirri had never acknowledged until now.

And she smiled.


	4. Three - Domesticity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri reads something in her book. Lilian has plans for the two of them.

Mirri had never known so much work went into making pictures magazine-worthy.

She tilted her head and watched over Lilian's shoulder as Lilian tweaked her pictures here and there, brightening the colour here, dulling it there. She sent pictures off and got them back, with Mirri's proportions changed in a thousand different ways. Larger eyes, longer neck, thinner waist. Sometimes her cuteness was played up, sometimes it was the flare of her hips, the shape of her rear.

Mirri thought it would bother her, but it didn't. At this point, the person in the pictures only had a vague resemblance to Mirri. It might as well have not been her at all but another woman. Any woman, actually. It was a generic woman, stunningly beautiful, stunningly inhuman. The real Mirri was closer to being human than this strange, impossible ideal of a woman.

"I see why women have all sorts of body problems," Mirri said. Her clients hadn't cared about what she looked like, as long as she was attractive enough to not put them off. They cared about bits and pieces of her, never the full thing. In a way, they hadn't been that much different from the magazine's editors.

"Indeed," Lilian remarked. She looked up at Mirri. "Are you hungry again?"

"No," Mirri said truthfully. Her body was still processing her last massive meal and it showed in her body now. No longer scrawny and small, she looked much older. She felt _better_ , leagues better. Curves filled out her clothes, her breasts had a certain gravity to them that spoke of real muscle and fat, not just the weak manifests that her body had managed. She was more sensitive too but handled it better. "I'm good. Do you need anything?"

"No," Lilian said. Mirri nodded and started to head out. Then Lilian caught Mirri's wrist in a gentle grip.

"Wait," she said. "Why don't you bring your reading in here? Sit by my side while I work?"

Mirri had no problem with that. She nodded and dragged in several cushions and the books she'd been reading from. She arranged her things by Lilian's feet. When she sat back, she rested her head against Lilian's thigh as she read. Lilian's free hand drifted down, rested on top of Mirri's head every so often.

It was... comfortable.

Lilian took time out of her days to clarify any questions Mirri had on her readings since Mirri had nothing better to do while Lilian was so busy at the computer, clicking and adjusting. She was instinctively bringing the changes back down to the original photos, trying to restore some part of Mirri. The editors kept pulling the pictures farther away. At one point, Mirri was pretty sure her skin tone had changed colours. Twice.

But the images had finally been approved, the edits were done. Lilian had sent Mirri out of the room while she handled a video call with one of the editors to finalize the work. Mirri claimed the living room for herself, yawning as she turned to the chapter in the demonology primer that dealt with succubi. It began with a long description of how succubi were the perfect sex slaves. From 'personalities designed to be submissive and obedient' to 'fear and pain responses rerouted to centers dedicated to pleasure'. It made Mirri uncomfortable. All the other sections had been dry, accurate if a bit dense and difficult to understand. This was... poetry compared to that. Bad poetry.

She closed the book and curled up in a ball. Looking out the window, she watched a misting rain turn the world hazy. Slave race. She'd never heard the words together in reference to a succubus, but suddenly things in her life clicked into place. The way that she'd been treated, the way that people spoke about her and her kind. How much of it was because succubi had been designed to serve in a bedroom? Was she going to live the rest of her life, selling her body?

No. Mirri rejected the thought. First model. Get a job where she didn't have to spend it on her back. Then-- then what? She'd never thought further than a few days ahead, before.

"Hello, kitten," Lilian said. Mirri looked over at Lilian but was too lost in her thoughts to smile. "Something wrong, kitten?"

"Just thinking," Mirri said. She didn't want to doubt Lilian's word or intentions. Heck, this arrangement of theirs was a business deal. Mirri couldn't forget that, however much she liked Lilian, liked the way that Lilian looked at her and spoke to her. It was business. Lilian was buying her time, her affection and it'd only last for three months. After that-- they'd go their separate ways.

But what if they didn't? What if this was just the warm-up, the lure to get Mirri to let down her guard?

 _Lilian wouldn't need a lure_ , Mirri rationalized. She could afford to just have Mirri kidnapped and locked up until Mirri broke and gave in. But a willing slave was better than one who wasn't. Mirri had seen it, the way women and men were enticed into relationships that became prisons. They didn't leave, even after the bars of their world had closed in and became obvious. Was Lilian doing something similar?

Would three months end with Mirri in chains?

Escape route. Mirri needed an escape route. One that Lilian didn't know about. She had enough money right now. She had to hide it where Lilian wasn't going to find it. There were clubs she knew about. Maybe she could get in as a dancer with her new clothes now. She needed more money, another source of income.

Lilian sat down beside Mirri on the rug. "Can I ask what you were thinking about? It looked like it was upsetting you."

"Just--" Mirri cast around her head for something. "You haven't asked me to do anything sexual yet. It's been bothering me. Why hire me if you don't want to use me?"

"Well, we have been busy," Lilian said. "But I wanted to talk to you about that first. Some of my... fetishes... can be extreme. I wanted to make sure you were alright with them first."

"I'm okay with anything," Mirri said defensively.

"Really, kitten?" Lilian asked. "Anything? If I asked you to drink pee or lick a human's rear after it has defecated? If I asked you to have sex with a dog?"

Mirri swallowed, feeling herself go cold. Her stomach churned in her abdomen. "Nothing I haven't done before."

"Kitten, I want you to be as happy with this arrangement as I am. Anything that you don't like, anything that makes you uncomfortable-- it goes. It's off the list. We're not doing it." Lilian shifted her shoulders slightly. "Actually, I think I'll make that your first assignment. I want you to make a list of sexual activities you're okay with, ones you'd be willing to try, and ones that you don't want to do. Due by the end of the week."

It was the first day of the week. Mirri bit the inside of her cheek.

"That sounds reasonable," she said after a few minutes. "But what would we be doing in the meantime? If you want sex?"

"Just because I like kinky sex doesn't mean I can't enjoy vanilla," Lilian chuckled. Then she grew serious. "I wanted to mention that, actually. Something came up in Hell. I'm going to be away for the week. The apartment is yours and I'm going to give you a nice allowance to use while I'm gone. If you hold any big parties, just clean up after yourself."

"Parties?" Mirri made a face, Lilian laughed. "What kind of business? What's going on in Hell?"

Lilian looked down at her hands. "Just some other incubi stirring up trouble, giving our queen grief. It'll be fine, Mirri."

Mirri nodded her head. "One day, I'd like to know more about hell."

"I'd be happy to tell you, kitten," Lilian smiled. "It's not such a bad place. Humans give it such a bad name. Anyway, I was thinking about taking the two of us out somewhere before I leave for the week. To celebrate your first modelling gig and my article in the magazine."

"What, like to-- eat or something?" Mirri asked. It was the only thing she knew in reference to 'going out'. As soon as she said it, her cheeks flushed. Eating meant sex. She imagined taking Lilian on a table in a high-end restaurant. Or spread out, wrists and ankles bound, served on a gleaming silver platter for Lilian's use in front of everyone. Her cheeks flushed hotter and she pressed her legs together. The thought wasn't entirely an unpleasant one and sent heat simmering between her legs.

Lilian smirked. "If you want to, kitten. I know a few places that are quite nice for that purpose. Even during the winter."

Mirri flushed even harder.

"I can smell your arousal at the idea, kitten. You're a little exhibitionist, aren't you?" Lilian teased. "Should have guessed the way you posed while modelling for me."

"Maybe," Mirri squeaked out. "Maybe I wouldn't be... opposed to doing that."

Lilian laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. No, I thought I'd take the time to pamper us both. I got us hot soaks and massages at a demon-friendly spa."

"There's one of those in the city?" Mirri asked.

"Mm, this city? No. It's on the moon."

"That's even deader than the city."

Lilian held up her hand. "There's a mimic hive on the moon, well, the entrance is on the moon. The spa isn't very big or sophisticated, but they do make a mean regeneration bath. Feel up to it?"

"I've never been to a spa," Mirri admitted. "But it sounds nice."

Lilian smiled. "I hoped you would say that.


	5. Four - Spa Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri and Lilian head to the spa.

According to all the books, mimics were a race of shapeshifters that fed off of dreams and memories. They lived in hives located between the walls that separated the planes, making them natural nexuses for travellers of all sorts and safe havens for monsters in human-dense areas. Being natural shapeshifters, no one knew what a mimic looked like in their true form. Well, no one other than another mimic.

Lilian had come close once. There was a set of mimic queens that liked pushing boundaries, including having two hives dwell harmoniously in a single dimensional bubble. But even the notorious SmokeRose hive refused to show its true nature in front of guests. No matter how hard the guests fucked them.

Lilian got a shuttle to the moon. Top-quality, of course. She refused to spare any sort of expense when her kitten was involved. For her part, Mirri seemed to be taking it in stride. Of course, her attitude was a strange mix of business and open attraction that Lilian wasn't even going to try to untangle. At least not yet. Not until Mirri herself sorted it out on her own.

Money smoothed their way through the spaceport. Mirri trotted beside Lilian, taking up a position close to Lilian's side, but half a step behind. It was the position of a pet, and it amused Lilian to see Mirri apparently remember it without even knowing what she was doing. Were there memories, locked in that brain of hers? Or had they been lost, dispersed to the wind and scattered across a thousand demons? Did Mirri remember where to walk because of habit, or because ancestral memory had told her it was her place? Mirri glanced up at Lilian, probably sensing Lilian's attention to her.

"That gold blouse is truly exquisite," Lilian said. And it was. The silk clung slightly to Mirri's skin, hinting at the shape of her body underneath. Amber flowers blossomed on Mirri's shoulders, delicately painted with slender leaves curling elegantly around them. It was paired with a pleated ivory skirt, with a bit of lace poking out from the underskirt. It gave Lilian ideas of future projects, of taking pictures of Mirri naked in fields of amber flowers. Mirri had looped her jacket over one arm. Her cheeks flushed pink at Lilian's compliment.

"Thank you."

"I was curious, kitten," Lilian said. "Most demons have-- memories of a sort. Do you have any?"

"Memories?" Mirri asked. "Like of past lives?"

"Sort of," getting into the details of demon reproduction was going to take them on a side track that Lilian didn't want to go down. "When a demon dies, its essence, or soul, can get split up into pieces that then grow into new demons. Sometimes the new demon has some of the memories of the old one. I was wondering if you had any."

Mirri shook her head. "None that I know of. Although sometimes--" she trailed off. "My dreams can be vivid. Sometimes it feels real, like it happened. Could that be what you mean?"

"Possibly, although one should never underestimate the mind's ability to come up with things," Lilian said.

A man in a stiff uniform greeted them politely when they boarded the shuttle. It was lined with acceleration couches. No amount of design could erase the practical nature of the straps or make the layers of deep cushions look stylish, but the shuttle attempted to do so. They were pale cream, the outer layer made of a synth-suede that might pass as leather if you didn't think about it too hard.

Mirri listened to the man as he instructed the passengers on the safest way to securely strap down. Lilian had been on enough trips. She kept the man's voice in mind as she picked out her couch. Mirri properly wrapped the cushioning around her and Lilian had to fight the smile on her face as she watched her kitten cocoon up and strap herself in.

"You know," Lilian leaned over so she could whisper in Mirri's ears. "You look very cute all wrapped up like that. Like a present, just waiting for me to unwrap you."

Mirri flushed pleasantly. "That'd be ho-- I mean, it's pretty hot."

Lilian smirked a bit more and wove a bit of magic to keep their conversation private. No need for the rest of the shuttle to overhear them.

"Oh, little kitten. Let me guess. You're imagining me stripping you in front of everyone on this shuttle. You're imagining them panting over your perfect body, wishing that they were me as I claim you in front of them all."

Mirri's face turned redder. "I don't remember Incubi being mind-readers."

"I don't need to be a mind reader," Lilian teased. "Your adorable little flush, the taste of your fantasies and desires. You want to show off, you want to be the center of attention."

Mirri opened her mouth, then something flickered in her eyes. The flush remained on her cheeks, but she was distracted by something else. When she spoke, she was serious. "Is that bad? Does it make me a dirty slut? Does it mean I'm a whore and good for nothing else?"

"Not at all, kitten," Lilian said. "We all have our fetishes. I dream of the hunt, of running my partner down, subduing them and taking what I want from them because I am strong and they are weak and there is nothing they can do to stop me. I dream of making them scream in pleasure despite themselves."

Mirri twitched violently. Lilian remembered it.

"But," Lilian said. "That doesn't make me a predator, kitten. It's a fantasy, nothing more."

Mirri turned her eyes to the viewports. They were closed now, to block off the ugly view of the port scaffolding. Her voice shook slightly. "You wouldn't ask me to do that, would you? Play the part of prey?"

"Would you find pleasure in it?" Lilian asked.

Mirri swallowed. Shook her head.

"Then no, Kitten. I'd never ask you to do such," Lilian said. "Not when there are fantasies that would please us both. For the record, I would very much enjoy satisfying whatever exhibitionist fantasy you desire. I do like to watch."

Mirri's smile returned slightly. "Is that so?"

"And," Lilian purred ever so slightly to Mirri. "Things are more... relaxed in the hive. There are clubs there with rooms made of one-way mirrors and windows, alcoves wreathed in shadows where half-illuminated figures can be seen."

"I think," Mirri said carefully. "I wouldn't mind it if we-- stopped there. But your trip to hell--"

"Oh, I don't have to be there until the day after tomorrow. We have plenty of time to stop for a little sightseeing."

The engine's rumble rose to a thunderous sound, drowning out any conversation. Lilian winced and put on her noise-cancelling headphones. Her eardrums had already burst, but they'd have healed themselves by the time the trip was over. Regeneration was such a gift.

* * *

The moon base was barren. There was one luxury hotel for wealthy socialites that wanted to get away from the city, but that was about it. The rest of it was dedicated to mining operations, tunnels excavated deep into the moon like a rabbit warren. Occasionally they opened up into a dome where the miners lived.

Lilian took Mirri on a tour around all the interesting places. Sometime halfway through, they slipped off to a side area and stepped through a mirror.

Mirri wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. At the word 'hive' she'd thought of beehives or wasp hives. Honeycombed, made of wax or paper. She had expected it to smell of honey.

This-- was not that. There was a hexagonal motif, definitely. There was a floral motif. But it was all aesthetic. The floors were some sort of glass or crystal, accented with swirls of something opaque, milky-white or rose-hued. They were edged in stainless steel, reflecting soft golden light from lamps hidden glass. The main room was for travel, full of monsters headed one way or another. Mirrors flashed, reflecting back worlds so different from the one Mirri had left that for several long minutes, she spent time just staring at them.

"Stay close," Lilian warned her. She'd stopped a short distance away, keeping a close eye on Mirri. "It's easy to slip through the cracks in a place like this. The hive does its best, but it's impossible to track people once they've left for another dimensional plane."

Mirri shivered and then nodded. She followed Lilian through a set of automatic doors that pulled apart like the wings of a beetle. Beyond was a city made of domes, carved from pillars that dangled impossibly from a ceiling and rose up from the ground in massive groups. Monsters walked along a street that shimmered around a twisting maze of hexagonal blocks.

Lilian waved her hand and summoned a carriage drawn by some sort of mechanical creature that Mirri had no name for. She followed Lilian into the carriage and Lilian gave the creature directions.

"So, what do you think, kitten?"

"It's-- I've never seen so many monsters in one place," Mirri said. She thought of the portals. "You could go anywhere with those portals."

"Not anywhere, but certainly somewhere," Lilian chuckled. "Perhaps that could be another outing-- to another dimension. Where would you want to go? Would you like to have sex on the clouds of heaven? Perhaps you'd like to bathe in the sulfur pools of hell?"

Mirri fiddled with the hem of her blouse, worrying at the pale gold silk. "I read that-- that there was a trade in succubi. That the succubi trade is considered separate from normal trafficking. I know you've mentioned it before, but... how bad is it?"

Lilian's face closed slightly. "Bad. Kitten, I'm not going to lie to you."

"Is it-- something I need to worry about? Right now?"

"Not as long as you're with me, kitten," Lilian said. "Unbonded or not, people will assume that you belong to me."

"But I don't," Mirri said.

"No, and the assumption isn't a good one," Lilian said. "But it will offer you protection. Alone-- that's a different story. A succubus sells very well on the market, for any number of reasons."

"Especially an unbonded one," Mirri finished.

"Unbonded succubi are the succubus version of a virgin human," Lilian admitted.

"With the dubious distinction of bonding actually being significant," Mirri muttered under her breath.

Lilian chuckled. "Indeed, kitten."

They rode through the streets for a few minutes longer. Mirri spotted the shops lining the street. For a moment, she thought she saw people behind glass cases. But it was gone before she got a clearer look. She shook her head slightly as the carriage rolled to a stop.

Lilian stepped out and offered her hand to Mirri. Mirri descended from the carriage, feeling silly. She kept close behind Lilian as she followed Lilian up a series of wide, flat steps to a domed building. The doors unfolded like flower petals and curled up again behind them after they stepped through.

Inside the dome, there were pools of steaming water, figures hidden behind walls of swirling glass and paper screens. Petals rose up, offering tantalizing views here and there. The air was rich with a scent. It swirled through the air, not quite there but Mirri's body remembered it. She slowed to a stop, then shook herself as she trotted after Lilian, who strode straight to a desk.

"Hello," the monster behind the desk said cheerfully. They were shaped like a serpent, with wings made of iridescent membranes, layered over each other. Glows of light caught Mirri's attention, like countless eyes. Frilled antennae shifted on the monster's head, rippling as they moved. "Do you have an appointment with us today or would you like to make one?"

"We have an appointment," Lilian said cheerfully. "Underneath Lilanne General."

The monster's antennae waved in the air briefly. "Ah, yes. I see you now. Please, follow Honeywine to your sulfur soak. The masseuses will be in after an hour for your massages."

"Thank you," Lilian said. Another serpentine monster appeared, this one much smaller.

"Please follow me!" they chirped, sounding very much like a child.

Despite herself, Mirri smiled as she followed behind Lilian. The monster led them to a changing area already prepped with two fluffy robes. Mirri stripped down to her harness, running her fingers along the wide silk ribbons. She hesitated.

"You're safe here, kitten," Lilian said. Mirri nodded and then undid the clasps holding the harness securely against her skin. As it came off, she focused on holding her human form for half a minute before letting the transformation take over. The effort left her panting, but it was better than her previous attempts.

Mirri pulled on the fluffy robe and followed Lilian out of the changing room. They were lead to a pool set behind walls of frosted glass. The scent of sulfur settled pleasantly in Mirri's nose, accented with spices and herbs that were almost familiar. The liquid inside was golden yellow, blue flames licking across its surface. Flowers made of ice or something like it floated on the surface, releasing a rich fragrance into the air. It was-- dizzyingly familiar.

Mirri slipped off her robe and stepped slowly into the pool. The thick, molten sulfur closed around her body. It felt like honey. The fierce heat radiating from it felt right. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back as she stretched out on a petal of glass that looked like it had been made to be stretched out on. Her wings drifted in the sulfur, dipping below the surface.

"Enjoying yourself, kitten?" Lilian asked as she joined Mirri.

"It feels nice," Mirri felt as if she'd been starved of something her entire life and was now taking in a meal of everything she'd been missing. "I feel-- good. So good."

Something stirred, brought on by the scent and feel of the water. But it was beyond her grasp for now. Maybe she'd see it in her dreams.

"It does feel good. A little piece of hell." Lilian sighed, tilting her head back. "I must say, this is one thing I miss about it."

"Hmm," Mirri hummed and sunk lower in the pool. Her muscles lost tension she hadn't known she'd been carrying and she flicked her wings in and out of the sulfur. "So hell actually is all fire and brimstone?"

"Our part is. It's quite pleasant during the summer. Humans are too easily scared," Lilian said.

Mirri smiled lazily. She closed her eyes as Lilian began to describe the place where she'd grown up in careful, loving detail. The sound faded into a patter of words, then sounds without meaning. Mirri drifted off to sleep, her eyes closed.

* * *

_She pushed through the thick gel that walled her off from the world and fell free as it burst open. She fell into a pool of burning blue fluid, the steam of fluid bursting around her as her wings flailed awkwardly, dragging behind her._

_Strong arms grabbed her, pulled her free and onto a soft surface. She coughed, took her first few breaths of air as someone rubbed her down efficiently, getting rid of the cooling sulfur, the thick fluid that still clung to her hair._

_Hands tilted her chin up. She looked up into a faceless demon's eyes as hands tugged on her wings, nails digging into sensitive knots of nerves. It made her gasp, heat pooling low in her belly. A strange desire found her. She needed touch, wanted it so badly that she couldn't imagine anything else. She licked her lips, hungry for the taste that swam in the air. She reached out for one of the demons around her, displayed herself for their use on instinct._

_"Sensitive," someone said._

_"Excellent form," another spoke._

_Hands spread across her skin, touched her breasts and nipples, lifted her tail. She gasped softly as fingers slick with a slippery substance explored her rear entrance, probing deep as her body shook in response. The other demon stroked her front entrance, tasted the slick wet that trailed from its fingers._

_"Sweet. Savory. Excellent layers of flavor."_

_She was laid down on the soft surface and the demons settled on and around her. Fingers took their measure of her entrance, touched her until she was twisting with want she couldn't describe. Her eyes fluttered, she gasped as something slipped between her lips and pushed in, further and further. She choked around its intrusion, but that too felt good and she relaxed around it when she realized it wasn't a threat._

_"Excellent responses."_

_"Tight, but quite elastic."_

_"This is the fifth A-class we've come across. The breeding was excellent this year. Letting them mature longer definitely has its benefits."_

_The world hazed over as the things sliding into her body began to pull out and in with regular motions. She was handled deftly, firmly but not roughly. She cried out from the intensity of the sensation as she was tipped over an undefinable peak over and over again. She didn't know how long they went, only that it ended with her in a pool of fluid, soaked in it and quivering with exhaustion and pleasure as pens scratched on paper._

_"You're going to be a good little pet, aren't you?"_

* * *

Mirri opened her eyes.

The dream, whatever it had been, had left heat and a certain lack of satisfaction swimming in her veins. She mumbled, flushing with heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the pool. Her wings fluttered. Her tail coiled, flicked against the skin of her legs. She remembered the touch, the exhaustion, the satisfaction as she'd lain used in a pool of cooling fluid. There had been something terribly right about it all.

Lilian looked like she had fallen asleep on the other edge of the pool. Her human form had fallen away. She was a terrible visage of fangs, of clawed hands and horns curling from above her ears around her head like a crown. From her pelvis, she was more or less humanoid. From below, there was a mass of tentacles, thick and muscular, scaled like a snake's.

Mirri wanted to prod one of the tentacles but didn't want to wake Lilian up. She let her fingers trail across the pool's fiery surface, did her best to relax. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, exhaled. Whatever it had been, it escaped her the more she tried to remember it. The more she tried to chase it down, the more escaped. Footsteps drew her attention. A thick scent filled the air.

She opened her eyes, looked up into eyes the color of twilight. Black wings, soft as velvet, rested against the succubus's back. They held towels in their hands. Behind them was another set of succubi, dressed in simple panels of silk belted by gold.

"Come," the succubus in front of Mirri said softly. Mirri looked back at Lilian. "Your mistress will be cared for well, I promise you."

Her mistress. Mirri thought about correcting him but shrugged her shoulders. Something told her that she should let them keep believing that Lilian was her mistress. She slipped out of the pool, dripping sulfur on the floor.

The succubus quickly rubbed her down with the towel and escorted her to a hot shower to wash away the rest of the sulfur. She was dried off and wrapped up in her robe. Carefully, she folded her wings against her back and followed the other succubus to a room a short distance away.

There was a padded table at the center, and shelves of jars containing thick oil.

She sat on the edge of the table and watched as the other succubus arranged a series of jars before facing her. He folded his hands in front of him, professional.

"You may call me Lief. I'll be your masseuse today. In your notes, it said that you are a new succubus, raised outside of Hell."

"That's right," Mirri said, uncertainly.

"Succubi are extremely responsive to touch. It's not uncommon for them to experience sexual pleasure from the simplest of caresses. With the intimacy of a massage, this is always taken into account."

Mirri flushed at his words. "And you tell me this why?"

"If you have need for sexual stimulation during this, you need only ask and an appropriate toy will be provided," the man said evenly. "Your mistress made it clear that you are to be as comfortable as possible."

Mirri fought another flush. "I see."

He smiled, ever so slightly and then gestured to the table. "Please, lay stomach-down. I will start with your shoulders and back, then your wings."


	6. Prompt - Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri gets a massage. It's not what she thinks it'll be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other: Pheromones/scent, sex toys, chastity device (very ill-defined and probably not realistic, but he's a demon and I can fudge the rules, involves piercings), sex with a stranger, wing kink

Leif watched as the younger succubus removed her robe and stretched out on the table. Two leaves extended out from the table, a soft surface for her to rest her wings against while Leif worked on her back and shoulders. The twilight-purple membranes quivered, dark as a night sky and just as deep. For a few moments, he just took her in as she lay patiently. She was lovely, graceful in form and movement. Her pheromones were rich and complex, filling the air with a sweetness that made him stiffen up, blood flushing into his sword.

She was unbonded.

He ran his tongue over his lips. The rings around his sword tightened slightly, holding him flat and tucked away despite the strain of flesh. His bondmate didn't like the idea of anyone using Leif for anything. The pain was exquisite in its own way, sending shivers of heat and sensation through his body.

Class B, at the least, he thought. Higher than his own class by at least two grades. Maybe even a Class A, those rare succubi that were deemed fit for archdemons and royalty alone. It wasn't just being pleasing to the eye. It was an attitude, a personality. It was the ability to handle the immense power of others. Not all succubi were made equal.  
And here she was in front of him, quietly submitting to his instructions. Oh, there was their business relationship, of course. He didn't expect her to disobey, of course. Not over something like a massage. But he wondered as he tasted her lust. It was curiously subdued, a bit bitter, a flaw in an otherwise exquisite subject. Disappointing.

Well, it explained why she was unbonded, why her mistress was taking her time. Succubi were designed for sex and a succubus that didn't find it interesting was worse than useless. Perhaps that was the explanation for the visit, the obvious pampering. Some succubi did eventually warm up, their lust coaxed out of them with enough displays of affection.

He opened a jar of oil infused with raw love. It was deeply pink, the rich hue of rose petals under a summer sun. He dipped his fingers in it, closing his eyes slightly as his skin tingled, absorbing the warmth of the emotion in the oil. He made sure his hands were sheened in oil before approaching the younger succubus.

"I'm going to start with your shoulders," he told her. She nodded and shifted her wings out of the way, giving him access to the shoulder blade. He began to work on her shoulder. Her skin was warm and soft under his hands. Her muscles were hard as stone, knotted with tension. She trembled when he touched her, working his way around the bundles of sensitive nerves that linked her wings to the rest of her body.

Leif stroked the muscles firmly with long, smooth applications of pressure from his palms. Slowly, he coaxed the tension out of her muscles. He was rewarded with a soft sigh and she dropped her head down onto the table, her eyes closed. The scent of her lust eased, some of the bitterness fading from it. It was replaced by a savoury edge instead. He tasted it, rolled it around his tongue. He could sense her fantasies. She wasn't dreaming about him. In her dreams, he was replaced by her mistress.  
In that, at least, she was a typical succubus.

Her breasts pillowed underneath her, soft and inviting. He wanted to touch them, to flick her nipples and see the way she reacted. He wanted to hold her still as he massaged them instead of her back, pressed his lips to the nubs of flesh and suckled. He wanted to hear her whimper as he slid into her body.  
Improper urges. One reason why he'd been downgraded to a Class E. Dominance wasn't a trait wanted in a succubus. His bondmate kept his sword tucked away by rings and piercings to remind him of his place.

"Mmm," the younger succubus hummed. He curled his fingers along her sides, touched the silk-smooth skin of her breasts as if by accident. Such a pity that she was claimed already, if not bonded. A succubus such as she would make a pleasant gift for his bondmate's husband. Leif would be greatly rewarded for bringing her to his bondmate's attention.

He switched to her other side and she shifted her wings automatically. They were short and round, made for acrobatic aerial dances rather than speed, gliding, or endurance. Aside from the genital area, they would be the most sensitive aspect of her body, tied to lust and desire as surely as the place between her legs.

Her breath caught slightly, whenever his hands brushed up against them. Blooms of delicate pink appeared on her cheeks. The scent of her lust strengthened as he worked his way down her back with long strokes of his hands. He shortened them, kneading a stubborn muscle and her body moved in response, hips rolling.

Her pheromones thickened in the air; hazed his thoughts. His own rose in response, the natural reaction of two succubi meeting. His fingers became more sensitive, his sword heavy with blood. He ached to be freed.

He made it to the small of her back. She gasped, her eyes going wide when he pressed his fingers against the knot of nerves at the base of her tail. It coiled around his hand and arm, the plume at its tip flicked in his face.

He rubbed the oil glands at the tip of the plume on instinct. Her tail drooped, but now his fingers smelled of her, unbonded, open for claiming, ready for sex. His thoughts hazed further, his hands wandered as he began to work on the tight muscles of her rear.

She twitched, legs opening ever so slightly. He marked her with her own scent, her own oil mixed in with the oils he used to keep friction from building up. The scent clung to him. Her pheromones clung to him. He'd smell of her for hours. He'd still smell of her by the time he went home to his bondmate.

Unbonded succubi. The scent would drive his bondmate insane, and for a day, it would be as if Leif was unbonded again. Leif found her tempting, almost beyond control. An incubus would find her irresistible and feel no urge to control themself. He wondered how her mistress managed. Perhaps they were two of a kind, neither one preferring sex.  
Leif kneaded the muscles of her rear, stroked them until they relaxed. The younger succubus let out a soft moan. The scent of her lust thickened further. The taste of savoury things almost overwhelmed the sweeter edge. There were layers in it. It was peppered, it was spiced, the heat clinging on his tongue.

He revised his thoughts. She was a Class A. She was a very high-quality Class A. Where had her mistress found her? He couldn't imagine an archdemon or a royal giving her up to some run-of-the-mill incubus. He couldn't imagine her being unbonded at her apparent age. She was young, yes, but most succubi matured in the egg, came out ready for sex with generational memories to tell them all they needed to know.

She would have been auctioned, as soon as her training was complete, all the gaps in her memory filled with muscle memory and knowledge. She would have been sold in a private auction, only members of royalty invited to have her serve them personally before they decided how much they were willing to pay for her.  
And they would have paid considerably.

She moaned when he turned his attention to her wings. The muscles were firm, the skin of the membranes velvety, covered in a silk-soft fuzz. When they were extended, he could see the veins that fed them, flushed and swollen with blood. Grace particles clung to his fingers when he began to apply the oil to the membranes. They flickered, golden charges that went straight to his head.

She shifted slightly. Licked her lips. Her hands twitched downward, her legs opened wider as if pleading for him to insert something between them.

"Remember," he told her as he continued to work, "All you have to do is ask."

She gasped softly when he resumed his work, breath hitching in her lungs. Her muscles shifted under her hands. He could feel them working, feel the way her body responded to his touch. An incubus might learn about a succubus's sensitive spots, but only a succubus knew what it felt like to be touched there.

He knew the spikes of sensation, the way they could leap out and seem to stop a heart whenever someone touched them with the right amount of pressure. She was a tuned instrument, so incredibly sensitive to any touch. The slightest amount of pressure against the arms of her wings left her shivering. Her pupils were dilated, blown so wide her eyes looked black.

She moaned, and he felt her muscles clench around nothing. He could taste her frustration, a sour note that enhanced the sweeter edges, the depth of the flavour in her lust. She wanted and needed with a ferocity of a starving animal. She was denying herself that pleasure. A good sign, for her mistress, but not so much for Leif's job satisfaction. Still, if she wished for relief, she would have to ask for it. He'd reminded her of the option. He was waiting for her to ask. He would relish it when the time came.

Her resistance didn't last much longer. He'd reached the 'hand' of the wing, where fragile bones joined up to support the membrane. The spot was incredibly sensitive, and he knew clusters of nerves that seemed to have a path straight to the pleasure centers of the brain.

"You-- you mentioned relief?" she asked after a few seconds. Her voice was strained.

"You can have a toy," he told her, still gently working that cluster of nerves. "Or I can assist you."

"T-toy, please," she said.

Leif held up the options. One was a straightforward toy meant to replicate a man's sword perfectly. Another was a vibrator, and the last was a plug for her rear. She picked out the toy shaped like a sword, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

"Will you require assistance inserting it?" he asked.

She licked her lips slightly, nodded her head almost shyly. He couldn't tell if it was an act or not. He didn't care. It meant he could touch her, slip his fingers into her body.  
Leif undid the packaging around the toy and set it aside. There was a tube of lube in a drawer and he retrieved it. She sat up, her wings folded neatly against her back.

"I'm going to need you to lie down," he said, "Legs spread."

She complied. The folds of flesh around her sheath were just as exquisite as the rest of her, soft and smooth as butter, utterly hairless. A sheen of arousal covered them, almost dripped onto the table itself. A drop of that arousal was worth its weight in platinum or diamond. Priceless waste. A wave of scent hit him as he ran his fingers along the folds, rubbed the nub of flesh just outside her entrance between his fingers.

Then he applied the thick gel to his hands. He inserted a single finger into her sheath, tested her readiness. She closed down on him, hard and he groaned. Fuck. She was tight, but her sheath stretched without giving up on the pressure as he worked her sheath until she was slippery and her sheath gave willingly around his fingers. He was tempted to slide his entire hand into her body, coat it in that priceless arousal from the tips of his fingers to the wrist.

The walls of her sheath were hot, wet, and smooth. They closed around him tight and he wondered what it would feel like if it was his sword inside of her, rather than his hand. He gritted his teeth as his sword ached, forced into an unnatural backward curve against his erection.

Her hips bucked against him. She moaned, her head tilted back, her back arched. Her breasts were perfect mounds of soft flesh, firm enough and small enough to keep their shape against gravity. The nub of her nipples were hard knots. He wondered how sensitive they'd gotten. He wanted to touch them. His desire mingled with hers. He tasted her fantasies, she tasted his. They were converging together, splitting and winding, weaving around each other.

She looked at him. Her rosebud lips were parted ever so slightly, the gleam of white teeth seen between them.

"Alright. I'm going to insert the toy now," he told her. She just whimpered when he pulled his hand free, her tight sheath trying to close around his fingers and keep them inside of her. He prepped the toy with more lube and then placed the tip at the edge of her sheath. She moaned, deep and long as he gently slid it inside of her. Her hips flexed to grant a better angle, her legs spread even wider, granting him a better view of her sheath as it stretched around the toy, accepting it.

"Ah-- ah--" she was panting. Her eyes ran across his body. She licked her lips. She didn't move, just watched him.

It felt like sacrilege to wash her arousal off of his hands, let the priceless fluid go down the drain. He reapplied some of the oil to his hands, turned back to her. Their mingled pheromones and lust danced in the air between them, filling it with a crackling tension. She still had her legs spread, her eyes were still wide. Arousal and lube seeped from around the edges of the toy.

"Please," she said. "I-- I need you."

He needed no other invitation. He introduced himself to her, properly this time, the way that all succubi were introduced to each other.

With a tender touch and pleasure that only another succubus could give.

* * *

Leif straddled her hips and she fumbled with the ties on his pants, undoing knots with hands that trembled as his oil-slicked hands paid tender attention to her breasts. He bent double, pressed his lips against her neck and sucked. She whimpered, squirming as heat flushed through her body. Her fingers dug harder into the knots, all but ripped them open. His pants fell away and he tossed them off of the table as he settled on top of her.

She could feel the hard curve of his sword pressed between her legs. It strained against the metal rings that bound it back, surely that was painful. She could feel the swollen pressure of his balls, pressing against her skin. She ground against them, gasping as his hands drifted down to fiddle with the toy between her legs. Body flush with heat, she was barely aware of the furnace that was his body, but she felt his lust press against hers.

She hooked her legs around his waist, pressed herself flat against his body. She moaned as he fucked her with shallow thrusts of the toy. It struck the clusters of nerves that made her body sing. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands exploring the joints of his wings. He cried out, back arching against her and pressed kisses against her chest, wherever they landed the touch of his lips seared her with heat.

He flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. His hands abandoned the toy, but she could feel the press of it and nearly yelped when it began to move inside of her, twisting and turning. It pulsed with regular motion, swelling and falling in turns. Her body clenched down hard on it, she pressed harder against his hips, trying to force it deeper.

His fingers dug into her wings. Sensation slammed into her brain, left her tilting wildly on an edge as her senses swam in pleasure. She arched her back, her wings twitching to allow him greater access to them as he massaged them with swift strokes, nails dragging along lines of nerves with just enough pressure to make her moan.  
He took her to an edge and held her there with his touch alone, his hands deftly manipulating her wings as if they were an instrument. And maybe they were nerves like strings that he plucked to make her entire body sing from the reaction. She could feel her muscles tensing up, felt herself prepare for the final fall from the edge. She could feel every shift from the toy, the weight of his body above hers, pressing her into the table.

She reached between her legs, manipulated the toy herself. The touch meant her progress was shaky, her hands jerking as he drew pleasure from her wings. The air was full of a charged energy, crackling gold sparks leaping from her wings to his and back again. They snapped in the air, left it tasting of something that made her world haze further with need.

Leif pressed a kiss to her wings, his hands reaching around and squeezing her nipples as he worked on a knot of nerves with tongue and lips. He licked the spot, pressed his teeth against it.

She arched her back, her wings snapping out and gold energy blinded her as the tension in her body snapped into pleasure, left her reeling and spinning as it flooded her veins. Limp-limbed, muscles loose, she collapsed onto the table as her heart pounded, her wings dragging at her sides.

Leif edged away, but he didn't back off. She moaned softly as his skilled hands stroked her shoulders, her back, her tail with firm pressure. She felt her body's response, felt it relax. Her wings didn't so much as twitch. They seemingly melted into the table when he massaged them again, flooded with satiation she'd rarely felt before. She was malleable in his hands, putty he put back to rights.

Someone knocked politely on the door. "The general would like to inquire about her pet's status."

Leif cleaned off his hands. His expression was even, despite his naked state. His smile was pleasant, professional. Mirri felt heavy and tired. She wanted nothing more to nap until her bones decided that they would come back. "We've just finished. Allow us a few minutes to clean up."

Mirri moaned slightly as he picked up a soft cloth and dipped it in warm water. He washed the sweat off of her skin, cleaned the area between her legs. She moaned when he removed the toy. It left her feeling unreasonably empty when she wanted to feel full.

"You will feel heavy and sleepy," he told her as he folded the leaves of the table that supported her wings back into the rest of the table. Her wings fell limp at her sides, a velvety blanket of warmth and it was a struggle to remember that she needed to put them away. "This is normal. Take it easy for the next few hours. Maybe take a nap."

"Mmm," she hummed as she slowly got off of the table and wrapped herself back up in her fluffy robe. He wrapped an arm under her shoulders, helping to support her weight as he walked her out of the door, back into the changing room. Lilian waited there, already fully dressed in her own clothes and reading a magazine.

"Enjoy yourself kitten?" she asked, putting away the magazine.

"Mmmhmm," Mirri nodded her head. Lilian helped her dress with an affectionate smile.

"I've booked us a small room overlooking the city," Lilian said. "Nice, quiet, and private. You can rest there before we head back home."

"That sounds nice," Mirri mumbled. She leaned against Lilian's side as the two of them walked out of the changing room. "That sounds really nice."


	7. Five - Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian reflects. Mirri has a nightmare.

Time ticked by differently in the mimic hives. It passed slower for them than any other plane.

The mimics seemingly lived and died in less than a year on Thalassia time, but they could pack lifetimes within that single year. Entire generations lived, died, and passed the torch onto their descendants in blinks of an eye. Such was the speed of the spaces between the worlds. You had to be careful where you went and how much time you spent there.

Right now, Lilian wanted lifetimes. Maybe she'd take them, spend her three months here with Mirri and convince her to stay with Lilian forever. Maybe she'd stay here with Mirri until Mirri passed away from whatever cause. Maybe she'd stay, whether or not Mirri did. She wanted to avoid her duties to the crown. She'd had too much blood for a single life, it seemed and she was still young by the standards of her race.

Lilian hadn't been entirely honest with Mirri.

It wasn't just a few incubi stirring up trouble. It was a few incubi leading an army of succubi in an outright rebellion against the crown. The succubi were once again tired of the role they were forced to play throughout the universe. The incubi didn't care about the succubi's rightful fury, they just wanted fodder for their shock troops while the incubi forces stayed safe, closing in on the exhausted palace forces after the succubi forces had died. Lilian had read the reports. The tactics were standard. It made her head hurt.

For the most part, the rebellion had fallen already, without too much actual damage other than to the succubi lives. And what demon cared about them? One succubus was much like another after all. A pair of willing legs spread, wings charged full of grace, ready to be transferred into another demon or angel. They were the shortest-lived race by far, their hatching fields vast to keep up with the number of eggs growing on the grounds from the dust of their souls.

This rebellion had been weak, torn up by internal politics and infighting. It had collapsed without so much as a whimper and had left the hatching grounds bloated more than usual with a thick haze of soul-dust. Apparently, it looked like a glittering fog that whited out everything else. There were so many eggs growing that they were being freely culled in the hope of cultivating A-class and B-class succubi from the lowest to the highest fields. Lilian's own family was ecstatic and every letter from them made Lilian's stomach churn.

The queen had ordered her top general back for the show trials of the incubi supporters and the executions of the succubi ringleaders. Lilian didn't have to participate this time. She wasn't the victorious general, the one who had captured the ringleaders. She just had to watch, just had to listen to the succubi scream the way her kitten had screamed. Except, unlike her kitten, they would fight for their lives and loose. Her kitten had never fought. She'd just... stood there. Looked at Lilian with her big eyes, so fearful but trusting.

Lilian should have helped her escape. She should have done a _lot_ of things.

Mirri didn't need to know about any of that.

This time, Lilian would protect her kitten from the politics of hell. And sure, maybe Mirri wasn't Lilian's kitten, exactly. But she was so very close and she was innocent in so many ways. Not naive, not a fool. There was a perceptive intelligence in Mirri that Lilian's kitten never had. Lilian's kitten had been A-class, trained from birth to be a sex slave and nothing more, to accept her life without question, to never question at all. Lilian's kitten never challenged the system she was born into. She embraced it completely.

Mirri was what Mirri's kitten might have been. Lilian didn't know. She probably never would.

Lilian decanted a glass of wine charged with love and sipped at it. It was a good vintage. Lilian tasted moments of joy spent dancing in the rain, days of sunlight spent lazily lying side-by-side with another. She rolled it around her tongue. There was sweetness, a hint of spice. It warmed cold parts of her heart, reminded her what it was like to fall in love for the first time. Not a desperate free-fall, but more like a long, scenic glide.

From the sound of the bedroom came the sound of crying. Lilian wasn't sure she heard the sound at first, but no, there it was.

She set her glass down on the table beside the couch and walked over to the bedroom.

There was no door, just a cascade of glass hexagons in shades of amber and gold that flashed when they spun gently in the doorway. When they struck each other, they sounded like chimes. Lilian pushed the curtain aside ever so gently and the sound rippled through their penthouse suite. She slipped through the curtain.

Inside the bedroom, one wall had been transformed into an illusion of a flower field. No, it wasn't an illusion. There was another room there, a portal to a mini-dimension planted with roses and other sweet-smelling flowers. All of them were as large as a person, the petals thick and soft. Sunlight shone brightly across the meadow, the sky was a brilliant blue, almost too bright to be real. A fake skylight overhead showed a noon sun, shining brightly down.

Lilian turned down the lights. The portal shifted, from a flower garden to a forest of mist and moonlight. The sun was replaced by a crescent moon, pale and grinning down at Lilian with a mocking smile.

The bed was tucked up against the opposite wall. It was circular and large, a molded divot in the floor lined with mattresses, pillows, blankets and cushions. The divot was meant to accommodate species from dragons to humans. Curtains surrounded it, made of rose-gold silk so thin that Lilian could see straight through it. They were pulled back now, letting Lilian make out the shape of her kitten as she slept.

Mirri had made a nest for herself out of blankets and pillows in the deepest part of the bed. However she'd started out, she'd managed to kick the blankets off of her body and was currently curled around the pillows in a tight ball. Her wings were wrapped even tighter around her body. The tip of her tail was swept up towards her face and was grasped in both hands. The last time Lilian had seen her kitten sleep like this--

_\--They kept her in the cells, a hole in the ground barely bigger than a cage with salt at the bottom. Her kitten was curled up into such a small space that there was more than enough room around the rest of her despite the size of the cell. She'd been beaten, burned, flogged. She bled from a thousand wounds and where she wasn't bleeding, she was purple with bruises. An ugly iron collar was latched around her throat, the inside lined with spikes that dug into her skin. She shook in place, whimpering--_

\--Just like she was doing now.

Lilian kneeled down at the edge of the bed, pushed her hair out of her face.

"Kitten?" she asked softly. It was a bit too far to reach Mirri, so she let her tentacles unfurl from her body and dangled one into the divot. She ran it across Mirri's shoulder, meaning to shake her gently. But Mirri grabbed the tip tightly in one hand, drew it closer to her. There was a desperation in her grip, a fear that seared Lilian's heart with remembered grief and shame. "Kitten, wake up."

"I didn't do it," Mirri whimpered. "I didn't do it."

Lilian's heart stuttered in her chest.

_"I didn't mean to do it!" her kitten cried out. "I never meant to hurt anyone!" Her screams grew more and more desperate as the iron got closer and closer to her skin. It was Lilian's duty as a general to ensure that the truth was found. She hardened her heart, but all her unshed tears turned to shards of ice as her kitten screamed for mercy that wasn't ever going to come. "I didn't!"_

"Why don't you believe me?" her kitten asked. Her voice was so faint that Lilian almost didn't hear her. "Believe me. I didn't want to hurt anyone. Please. Make it stop." She twisted. "Make it stop. _Please believe me_."

Lilian's tentacles had minds of their own sometimes. The one that Mirri was holding wrapped tight around her wrist, with a grip almost as strong as the one that Mirri was exerting on it. Lilian carefully eased herself into the bed as two other tentacles stroked Mirri's skin, braided her hair out of her face. They nuzzled her face and Mirri leaned against them, still shaking.

"Hush, kitten," Lilian said softly. "I believe you. I'll always believe you. Always. I always believed you."

She'd just been too much of a coward. She'd always been a coward and it had cost her kitten her life. Mirri had paid the price of all of Lilian's failures. 

How much did Mirri remember? How much of her knew Lilian?

Mirri whimpered softly, but she didn't speak again. She went quiet, her grip on Lilian's tentacle relaxing. Her body uncoiled slightly from its tight ball. Lilian pulled the blankets back over Mirri's body, tucked them around her kitten's shoulders as her kitten's breathing slowed and deepened back into restful sleep. Lilian bent down and pressed a kiss to her kitten's forehead before starting to pull her tentacles away.

"Dream sweetly, kitten," Lilian said softly.

Mirri's hand tightened around Lilian's tentacle again, squeezing it in a death grip.

"No," Mirri murmured. "Don't go. Don't send me away. Don't make me leave."

 _I want to stay with you,_ another succubus with the same face said, so many years ago. She had held Lilian's hand tightly, a desperate look in her eyes. It was the first time-- the _only_ time-- she'd ever disobeyed a direct order, stated her own desires. She was clinging to her war collar, leather and iron and bone, which Lilian held. With her free hand, she yanked at her palace collar, gold and diamond and ruby, all that she had been made for. _Don't make me leave you_. 

Lilian shook the memory out of her head but couldn't suppress the guilt that formed a lump in her throat. She should have never sent her kitten away, should have kept her kitten beside her despite the risks. It was the palace, after all, that had eventually killed her kitten and not the battlefield.

"Shh," Lilian murmured as she settled back in place beside Mirri. "I'm here kitten. You don't have to go. I'll stay by your side."

She wrapped her arms around Mirri's waist and Mirri automatically curled up against Lilian's chest. The shaking in her limbs eased. Her distressed expression relaxed into something more neutral. She snuggled up against Lilian, pressing her entire body against Lilian's as if afraid Lilian would vanish if there wasn't enough contact. Her tail coiled around one of Lilian's tentacles, her wings wrapped around Lilian's body like a living blanket.

"I'll never send you away from me again," Lilian whispered to Mirri.

And it was a promise.


	8. Six - Angelic Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri learns things about Lilian's tentacles. Some of Lilian's old friends drop by.

Mirri woke up tangled in a nest of snakes.

She opened her eyes and sat up. Not snakes, tentacles. They were smooth-scaled like a snake's body, black as pitch with a reddish sheen, with a raised series of bumps and ridges on the underside of the tentacle itself. There had to be at least twelve of them, as thick around as her thigh set in two concentric rows.

They were warm to the touch, bands of heat around her body. She shivered and they tightened around her body. Mirri reached for the blanket that had slipped to her waist. Though the tentacles held her, they weren't restraints. They loosened as she snuggled closer to Lilian, bringing the blankets back up around both of their shoulders, and their tips gently stroked her skin.

She felt... safe, oddly enough. She knew they wouldn't hurt her, although something told her they were more than capable of ripping her apart. Like Lilian herself, they were frightening, but that power and anger would never be directed at Mirri.

Mirri rubbed her fingers hesitantly across the tips of the tentacles. They were dry, of course, though the shine of the scales made them look wet. Lilian giggled softly in her sleep and Mirri pulled her hand away, startled by the noise. The tentacles had other ideas and the thinner tips wound in and around her fingers.

Mirri rubbed the bumps and ridges on the underside of one limb. It pulled away from her hand and Lilian shifted slightly, giggling again. Were the tentacles... ticklish? Mirri tickled her fingers against the bump of another one and like the first, it quickly retreated from her touch.

She giggled and tickled another one. It pulled away, rippling and coiling as if it was laughing too. Two more coiled around her wrists and held them firmly as Lilian opened her eyes. She yawned. "Kitten, what are you doing?"

"You're ticklish," Mirri said, delighted by the weakness. Lilian, sometimes, didn't seem to have any.

Lilian grumbled. "Of course that's what you discover about my tentacles first." She sounded peeved.

Mirri giggled, a bit louder this time. She curled her fingers around the tentacles holding her. The tentacles quickly retreated, freeing her wrists. She laughed again and Lilian glared down at the two tentacles.

"What else do they do?" she asked, tickling another one. "How sensitive are they? What happens if I do _this?!"_

Mirri attacked her outright, knocking the two of them over in the bed. She started tickling whatever was in reach and given the mass of tentacles, there was a lot in reach. Lilian laughed and spasmed, twitching away from Mirri.

"Kitten-- kitten, stop that-- Kitten!"

Mirri was laughing harder now, Lilian at her mercy. The incubus was gasping with laughter, so hard that she couldn't actually say anything. None of the tentacles could actually attack back as they twitched and twisted as Mirri worked her way up from their ends to the base. One of them finally managed to wrap around Mirri's wrists and fingers and then Mirri's current position in the middle of the tentacles suddenly seemed like a bad idea.

Lilian's tentacles tightened around Mirri's wrists, held them together while the others found all of Mirri's sensitive spots. Then it was Mirri's turn to gasp, unable to breathe and laugh at the same time. Laughter usually won out as Mirri's wings twitched wildly.

"Mercy, mercy!" Mirri cried, "I surrender, you win!"

Lilian laughed and stopped. "Hah! I reign champion supreme!"

Mirri pounced on Lilian as soon as the tentacles relaxed. She rolled them both over in the bed and Lilian went with the motion. Somehow, Mirri ended up beneath Lilian, the weight of Lilian's body pressed against Mirri's.

She wrapped her arms around Lilian's shoulders and pressed a kiss to her lips before she was really aware of what she was doing. She stopped then, flushing and unsure of what had come over her.

At least until Lilian kissed her back. Mirri melted into the kiss, flicking her tongue against Lilian's lips until they opened for her. Lilian tasted of sulfur, inexplicably tasted of sunshine and smoke and heady things that clouded Mirri's thoughts. Lilian deepened the kiss further, slipping her tongue into Mirri's mouth.

The tentacles shifted around Mirri's body, no longer pinning her down but supporting her back and shoulders. Mirri's hands wandered across Lilian's shoulders, down her back to her waist. Lilian responded. Her hands slid across Mirri's shoulders, rubbing sensitive places that made Mirri arch up into her, her legs twitching wider. She was wet already, could feel it and smell it.

She ground her hips against one tentacle, could feel them shifting and changing. Lilian felt hot now, hot as any furnace. Mirri had been the one to stoke the banked coals into a fire. She didn't mind. She wanted Lilian, wanted her now.

Mirri broke off the kiss in order to breathe and ask if Lilian wanted to have a morning roll in the sheets. For breakfast, of course. Not because Mirri just wanted Lilian just to have her one last time before Lilian left for hell.

Lilian planted another kiss on her jaw. Mirri moaned helplessly when Lilian sucked gently at the skin, swiping her tongue across it.

"You certainly have a way of saying 'good morning'," Lilian said, her voice thick with lust. Mirri drank in the rich meal, her wings fluttering. "Not that I don't appreciate it."

"How long before we have to go back?" Mirri asked.

"Not for a few hours yet," Lilian shifted position so that Mirri was on top of her, straddling his hips. "If you wanted to see what else my tentacles could do."

"Oh, yes," Mirri purred. She watched with fascination as other tentacles unfurled from Lilian's body. These were thinner, only as thick around as a wrist, a clenched fist, an arm rather than a leg. They were still scaled, but the scales were so fine and thin they were basically skin. They shaded from a color as dark as a blood-wine from the base of Lilian's body to ruby and scarlet at the tips. Frills of purple-red flared out from the base, the skin as soft as velvet.

The thicker tentacles gently nudged Mirri's legs apart, letting the thinner ones explore the places between them. Mirri whimpered softly when the tip of one brushed against her sheath and nudged the nub of flesh just outside of it.

"The question is," Lilian said. "Shall I show you here? Or here--" Another tentacle probed gently at Mirri's rear. "Or perhaps here?" A third curled upwards and the tip of it rested on Mirri's lower lip. She licked at it and it shuddered before pushing forward.

"Or," Mirri said, mind ticking down roads that involved trying to figure out everything those tentacles could do to her, "Perhaps we could try--"

Someone knocked on the door to the suite. There was a pattern to it, two short knocks, then two more with a longer pause between them. Lilian looked over at it, her eyes narrowed. Mirri eyed the tip of the tentacle. The others had pulled away, but that one was close enough. She closed her lips around it, trying to encourage it. The tentacle shuddered as she began to suckle and lick at it. It pushed deeper inward and Mirri accepted it greedily.

"Who is it?" Lilian called.

"For shame, Lili!" a man yelled back. "Visiting the hive without dropping by to see your old friend!"

"You seem to have found me well enough regardless," Lilian looked down at Mirri and sighed. She pressed a kiss to the top of Mirri's head as her tentacle pulled out of Mirri's mouth. "Sorry kitten. Some other time."

"Who is he?" Mirri asked, annoyed at the interruption. She was flushed with heat and lust. 

"A friend. You should meet him. If I'm not around, he'll protect you," Lilian said. "Want a cold shower?"

"Yes, please," Mirri said. Lilian smoothed Mirri's hair down. A bit of scent bloomed around the two of them, something fresh like springtime. It cleared Mirri's thoughts of lust and bodies and skin against skin. Or scale against skin. The heat in Mirri's body faded like a banked fire. It simmered, fresh fuel would throw it back into open flame. But it was dormant for now. Another bit of magic and Mirri felt clean, no scent of lust clung to her skin. "That's helpful."

"Unbelievably so," Lilian agreed.

"Come on, Lili!" another person said, a woman this time. "Open the door already!"

"Hold your wings already!" Lilian shouted back. "I just woke up!"

Mirri climbed out of the bed and changed into her blouse and skirt. She smoothed her hands down the silk. At some point, someone had cleaned it while she'd napped off the massage. It smelled of smoked honey.

Lilian wrapped her robe around her body and stalked off in the direction of the door. Mirri fought a smile as she watched the tentacles move around before collapsing back into Lilian's legs. They were scaled and crooked like a dragon's, ending in thick claws. Two tentacles stayed out, trailing behind Lilian like a pair of tails.

Mirri followed behind Lilian as she walked over to the door and opened it.

On the other side were angels. Mirri had only seen them once or twice, never in person. They were giants, their heads almost brushing the ceiling and their wings filling up the hallway. Their wings crackled with grace, great glowing patterns of gold light shining in spots and bars.

There was one succubus too, small and a spot of darkness against the brilliance. A black silk ribbon was secured around her neck, holding a small metal charm of a bat. She glanced at Lilian with a nod, and then did a double-take when she saw Mirri. The rest of the men reacted differently, almost startled by Mirri.

"Come on in," Lilian said. There were seven angels total, plus the succubus. Their leader, judging from the way the others arranged themselves around him, was a dark-haired angel with matching black wings and bars of gold on his wings. Two angels looked similar enough to be twins, their wings the colour of rust and specked and barred with gold. A white-winged giant, even for the angels, loomed just behind the leader. Beside him was a leaner angel with sleek grey wings. Two angels held hands, their wings a rich emerald green with red and yellow markings, the other a deep sapphire blue.

"Everyone," Lilian said. "This is Mirri. She was trafficked at a young age so I offered to teach her the ways of demons. Mirri, the bastard in the front is Captain Dale. The monster of an angel is Perrin, then Merric. Charlie and Jamie are the twins, and Lucius and Theo are the two lovebirds. Allison is their lovely succubus companion."

Allison nodded quietly in Mirri's direction. Her gaze was measuring. There was a weight to it that made Mirri shift in place.

"Mirri," Dale said. He was the black-winged angel. "So she's not--"

Lilian shook her head slightly. "No."

"The resemblance is incredible. And you just found her, what wandering around?" Perrin's white wings fluttered at the tips.

"She found me, actually," Lilian's lips twitched slightly. Mirri sat down on the edge of the couch arm, somewhat intimidated by the size of the angels. She glanced at Lilian, but didn't ask. She'd suspected that she looked like someone else. But to have it confirmed made her shiver slightly.

"What are the chances of that?" Charlie-- or maybe it was Jamie-- asked.

"The fates have their will," Allison said. She stepped forward with a friendly smile at Lilian. Her tail swayed from one side to the other cheerfully. "If you have any questions about being a succubus, don't be afraid to call. Has Lilian given you a scroll yet?"

"Scroll?" Mirri looked over at Lilian.

Lilian winced. "Now that you mention it..."

"For shame, Lili," Allison scolded. She glanced back at Mirri and smiled. "A scroll will let you contact people between dimensions. It's an incredibly useful piece of tech that _everyone should have._ " That was said with a glare at Lilian.

"I was distracted," Lilian cleared her throat slightly. "And I was hoping to introduce Mirri to magic slowly. I know what it's like to be tossed into the sulfur pool and told to swim. Besides... the hive isn't exactly the best place to shop sometimes."

"True," Dale said thoughtfully. "But with a group of eight, no one's going to bother Allison or Mirri. They wouldn't dare."

"I'd like to see them try to touch our little bat," Merrick cracked his knuckles.

"I'd like to see more of the hive," Mirri admitted to Lilian, sending the incubus a somewhat pleading look. Lilian opened her mouth, and then Mirri saw the moment when her resistance melted.

"Ah, I can't deny you, kitten," Lilian said. "There's a few bookstores here. We can stop in one on the way back. And some updated fashions. You look cute and classic in that blouse, kitten, but you're two centuries out of style by demon standards."

Mirri grinned. "We can go?"

"Why not? I was going to get you one eventually. And now you have Allison as a penpal." Lilian pointed a finger at Allison. "No corrupting my kitten with your ideas."

Allison smirked. "No promises, Lili."

"Let me get changed first, then we can go." Lilian said. She kissed the top of Mirri's head. "Just be a minute, alright?"

"Alright," Mirri pressed Lilian's hands to her cheek.

"None of you scare my kitten now," Lilian said to the angels as she made her way to the bedroom.

"Aw, Lili, don't you trust us?" Theo grinned.

"No," Lilian said and the angels laughed. "Who trusts a birdbrain?"

"Squidhead," Lucius called back, to more laughter. Lilian gestured, and Mirri assumed it was rude because the laughter just got louder as Lilian vanished behind the glass curtain.

"So," Allison said. She sat down on the couch. "You and Lili, huh?" The other succubus had dark red hair, streaked with purple and tipped in black. Her eyes shone gold.

"It's not like that," Mirri cleared her throat. "Lilian was lonely. She offered to teach me in exchange for companionship."

"Ah." Whatever Allison thought, she kept it to herself. "What do you think of the general?"

"She's..." Mirri trailed off. "She makes me feel safe."

Allison smiled. "I'm glad."

"So, how did you end up with a bunch of angels?" Mirri asked, uncomfortable with the personal question. She didn't want to think about Lilian more than necessary. They were going to part ways after three months. It was best not to get too attached to her.

"I was born in a human colony," Allison said. Mirri gave her an uncertain look.

"I thought succubi were born only in hell."

"That's the common belief," Allison said. "But if you've got a big enough population of succubi concentrated in one spot and a few pools of liquid sulfur, you can hatch new succubi. We just can't be born fully-grown like in hell."

"Oh," Mirri said and thought that over.

"Anyway," Allison said. "I got into a spot of trouble. Dale and the others picked me up. We saved each other enough times, I just decided to stay with them."

It sounded like there was a much longer story behind that, but Mirri had learned not to pry too deeply into other's lives the hard way. She just nodded her head.

"How'd you meet Lilian?" Mirri asked.

"We pulled the general's calamari ass out of a fire," Theo smirked. He plunked himself down into another chair. "Heavenly fire to be specific, not hellfire. Been friends ever since."

"She's a good person," Dale agreed. "For a demon, at least."

Allison sniffed. "And what does that make me? Chopped meat?"

"The family pet," Perrin rumbled. "That reminds me, we should put a bell on you. You nearly scared my soul out of my body this morning."

"It's not my fault you didn't hear me," Allison sniffed.

"No, but I do like the idea of putting a bell on you," Dale smirked. "On certain occasions."

Mirri flushed slightly as they began to bicker back and forth. She felt invisible. Quietly, she got to her feet and slipped out to the bedroom.

Lilian was half-changed, dressing in the pretty blue gown she'd worn yesterday. She looked over at Mirri as Mirri stepped inside. "Are they being rude, Kitten?"

"No," Mirri said. She watched as Lilian twisted her hair and held it in place with an enamel comb in front of the bathroom mirror. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. And to ask you something."

"Ask away, Kitten," Lilian held out her hand. Mirri took it and Lilian positioned her in front of the mirror. She picked up a brush and began to straighten out Mirri's hair, arranging it into a more elaborate version of her own updo.

Mirri opened her mouth but lost her courage. "They said something about rescuing you from heavenly fire."

"Ah," Lilian said. "He's over-exaggerating. Mostly. I was captured during the last war between hell and heaven and got slated for execution. Allison was my cell-mate at the time. They broke both of us out at the same time, but we were more than halfway through our own escape by the time they managed to get to us. We were in a pretty tight spot though. I'll admit that."

She pinned Mirri's hair up with a set of hairpins. They were simple, ending in pink glass beads. Mirri touched one of them, and then smiled shyly at her reflection.

"There, pretty kitten," Lilian said. "You're perfect."

Mirri looked at her reflection in the mirror. Something stirred inside of her, her heart beat rapidly, painfully, in her chest. She glanced away. "Why are you doing this, Lilian? Why are you... what do you want from me?"

Lilian hesitated. Her hands fell back to her sides. "Is it a crime, to want a bit of company and to do a good thing at the same time?"

"You said something yesterday, about demons being born from fragments of other demons souls," Mirri said. "What if... what if the fragments of another demon's soul all come back together? Instead of mixing into other demons."

Lilian looked away from Mirri. "Then the demon is considered reborn. It doesn't happen often, and when it does it's usually because someone was trying to bring it about through spells. True rebirths are incredibly rare."

"What if... what if it gets close, but not quite perfect?" Mirri asked. Her voice shook slightly.

Lilian rubbed the back of her neck. "I can't answer that one, kitten. Philosophers have been driving themselves crazy for centuries trying to. Why bring it up?"

 _Because every time you look at me, you see someone else_ , Mirri wanted to say, but the words got stuck in her throat. "Just wondering, I guess."

"Hm," Lilian said. She smiled a bit. "Well, I promised you a bookstore. You could get a few texts on the subject. The philosophers love the conundrum."

Mirri found herself smiling back, though her guts squirmed. "That'd be nice."


	9. Prompt - Public Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group takes a train to go shopping. Lilian and Mirri have fun on the ride over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Train sex, very minor tentacle restraint

The hive was bigger than Mirri had originally realized. She'd figured it was the size of a small city, but in truth, it was more like several large cities crammed together. The bookstore and shopping district -- or at least what passed for one-- was so far away that they had to take a high-speed train to get there.

The station itself was crammed with people and there were at least three different sizes of trains, maybe five. There was another station under their feet, which was effectively a massive aquarium, with high-speed pipes to transport swimmers around the city.

Mirri turned around and around, watching as one enormous train opened, and several centaurs stepped out as a door slid open. They were followed by dragons and ribbon-like creature that Mirri had no name for. Ripples of light ran along their bodies as they undulated through the air. Another turn and she watched a train the size of a toy drop off a group of fluttering lights. They left a trail of glittering dust that made her sneeze when she accidentally inhaled some.

The angels and Lilian formed a loose circle around Allison and Mirri. The angels had their wings out and half-open, providing a curtain of feathers around Allison. Mirri walked close by Lilian's side, uncomfortable with how much of her vision was blocked by the angels, however grateful she was for their presence. The station was crowded and she became aware of groups of monsters glancing their way. Their looks were speculative, but they didn't last long. She could feel their lust, tempered with a cold pragmaticism and calculation that cut like a blade.

Mirri edged closer yet to Lilian, shivering.

"You doing alright, kitten?" Lilian asked.

"It's a lot to take in," Mirri said. Her eyes wandered to a group of the monsters. They had moved away, and she hoped that whoever they targeted would be okay. "That's all."

"Hmm," Lilian's expression shifted slightly. She didn't say anything though. Just wrapped an arm around Mirri's waist. Mirri returned the gesture with a wing.

Ticket counters ran along the outside edge of the station, with turnstiles leading to stairs that lead down to the trains themselves. Mirri and Lilian walked over to one, the angels and Allison went over to another. Allison was cheerfully responding to the other's teasing with teasing of her own. One hand rested on the black ribbon around her neck, fingers rubbing the charm on it.

"Two day passes please," Lilian told the minotaur behind the glass. "Medium-class."

The minotaur's eyes slid over to Mirri. He looked bored. "Just so you know, there's a current deal going with the pet passes. If you're looking to save a credit or two, if you catch what I'm saying."

"Ah," Lilian said. "Thank you, but no thank you."

The minotaur shrugged his shoulders and typed into the terminal. "Two adult passes comes to 15 credits, with a 2 credit tax."

Lilian fished in her bag and handed over the credits. The minotaur pushed two black hexagons through the slot. "Enjoy your trip," he said cheerfully. Lilian and Mirri stepped off to one side, while Dale finished up paying for his group. Judging by the way they had switched to calling Allie 'pet' they'd taken advantage of the discount. Mirri didn't know how she felt, personally, but Allie seemed fine with it. She got a red hexagon instead of a black one and Dale got a blue one.

"Where to first?" Dale asked. "Because I was thinking the Honeytea Mall. It should have everything we need."

"Sounds like a plan," Lilian said. "Kitten?"

"As long as I get to see the promised bookstore," Mirri said.

"You know, I wouldn't mind a new collar," Allison added. She tugged the silk ribbon around her throat. Mirri's attention was drawn to it. She hadn't even thought it was a collar, just a necklace. She wondered what it would be like to wear one, to be marked by Lilian's ownership. "A girl's got to have an accessory for every occasion."

"Bat, you've got ten already." Allie looked up at Dale and blinked her eyes at him.

The angel gave in with a sigh. "And who are we to deny you?"

"You could put a bell on it, I don't mind," Allie added, as if to sweeten the deal.

"Captain, we're getting her a collar," Perrin said quickly. "In fact, let's make that our first stop."

"Mirri and I will go buy books," Lilian said decisively. Mirri frowned up at Lilian, about to protest because how long did it to pick out an accessory? Lilian squeezed Mirri's hand tightly. "Kitten, you'll have plenty of time to browse, I promise you. Last time I went along shopping for toys with them, it took forever."

"Hey!" Allison protested.

"You're so picky," Lilian said.

"It was a BDSM store the size of a city! You expected to be in and out in a few hours?"

"I didn't expect the trip to take a decade!"

Mirri giggled, covering her mouth with the plume of her tail as she did so. Lilian gave her another one of those startled looks, looked at her as if she were a ghost before her face relaxed into a smile.

"Three hours should be more than enough time in a bookstore. I dunno about a decade. I don't like books that much."

"As long as you're happy, kitten," Lilian ruffled her hair and then checked the map of trains. "Okay. We'll need route 36b. That'll take us closest to the mall."

"Great. We'll meet up with you at the bookstore once Allie's done," Dale said.

"If Mirri wants to take three hours with books," Lilian shook her head, "We'll get done first. We'll meet you at the BDSM shop."

"Hmph," Dale said, but didn't argue. "Come on, bat." Allison looked laughably small against his side as she hurried over to him and was enfolded in his dark wings.

They headed off to the trains, walking to the stairs. Turnstiles at the start allowed people through when they inserted their hexagonal passes. It was all very mundane for such a magical place and part of Mirri relaxed as they waited in one short line.

Mirri looked over to one side where larger monsters used gates to access the larger trains while Lilian drew her forward. Mirri couldn't read the signs above the trains, but Lilian could. She broke into a run as one of the signs switched from a steady blue to a brighter shade of green and ripples of light ran down the sides of the train. They made it to one train just before the doors closed and the last roll was called. Lilian pulled Mirri in just in time. The doors snapped shut a half-breath later, and Mirri stumbled away from it as she fought to regain her breath.

Inside the train, the surface was smooth and pearly, like a shell. Cords of light ran through the walls, occasionally twisting together to form a display and the occasional map of the train system with the route illuminated in color while the rest of it was simple white. The ground underneath Mirri's feet was hard and white, more like bone than anything else. The walls rippled with movement, as if the train itself was beating like a heart. It felt alive.

It was larger than Mirri expected and also far more crowded. While the bulk of the angels cleared a small bubble of space for the succubi, Lilian fell farther and farther behind. Their wings formed a wall around the succubi, blocking off Mirri's sight further.

Anxiety twisted in her chest. She didn't know why. She squirmed her way free of the bubble and grabbed Lilian before she could vanish entirely from sight, wrapping her arms and wings around the incubus.

"Kitten, I'm fine," Lilian rested her arm around Mirri's waist.

"I don't like trains," Mirri said, which was true enough. She didn't like it when too many people closed around her, pressing against her the way they always seemed to do on trains. There was a nightmare there, she knew, but nothing she ever remembered when she woke up. She just knew she didn't like trains.

"Kitten, you should have said something," Lilian did-- something. Twisted the space around them somehow. It felt like they were in their own little universe, although outside of the bubble, life went on as normal. But Mirri could feel the edges of it, making her skin prickle whenever her tail or wings hit the sides of the bubble. She took a few deep breaths, felt her racing heart still.

"It's okay. It's just a dislike. I don't like crowds either."

Lilian pulled Mirri closer to her, rested her head on top of Mirri's. The succubus relaxed in Lilian's embrace. Chatter slid around them, meaningless syllables and sounds. The world was only the two of them and it felt right. They rejoined the others, but remained in their little bubble. Allison glanced back in their direction, meeting Mirri's eyes briefly. Mirri glanced at Lilian and Allison smiled ever so slightly.

Mirri felt a brush of emotion, a _'Go get whatever you want'_ sort of thing that quickly vanished. Allison turned away from them, and rejoined the discussion with her angels. Mirri breathed out gratefully.

"I would have insisted on taking a hover, at least," Lilian admitted. "We can take one back."

"I wouldn't mind having you to myself," Mirri admitted. The train's movement was erratic enough that she didn't quite trust her balance. She kept both hands firmly on the pole, but her tail was free to move and purposefully brushed against the front of Lilian's skirt. 

"Oh, kitten?" Lilian asked and raised an eyebrow at Mirri.

"Well, you did promise to show me what you could do with your tentacles," Mirri said.

Lilian smiled. "I did, didn't I?"

One of her tail-tentacles brushed against Mirri's leg, rubbing just along the inside of Mirri's calf. It wasn't anywhere near Mirri's sensitive spots, but she felt herself growing hot at the sensation of strength behind the limb and wondering what else the tentacle could do. "Would you still like to know? Perhaps I could give you a demonstration."

"Here?" Mirri asked, although the thought interested her. She glanced at the others, outside of their little bubble of space. They were there but separate. Outside. They were in public, but they weren't at the same time. It was safe. Something inside of her tingled in anticipation. "Now?"

"Afraid, kitten? Or anticipatory?" Lilian asked.

"Both," Mirri answered. She paused. "More anticipatory."

"Hm, you are a little exhibitionist aren't you?," Lilian teased. "Wanting me to fuck you in public where anyone could see you."

The tentacle continued to tease Mirri, flicking against her leg. Mirri wanted it to venture underneath her skirt. It was short enough, she reasoned. It wasn't _short_ , the skirt ended at her knees, but tentacles made such matters more... flexible.

"You're willing to do it," Mirri said.

"I can't deny you anything you want," Lilian purred. "If you want me to take you here, well, I can do that for you. You just have to ask."

"Will other people-- notice?" Mirri asked. "What does the bubble... do?"

"Just a little wall between us and them," Lilian said. "A 'look away' privacy bubble with a bit of an edge, so to speak. They won't notice anything-- if you don't give them anything to notice. It only works so well."

Mirri felt herself get a bit wetter at the thought of them possibly catching her with Lilian. She wondered what they'd do, if they'd throw a fit or just idly watch as some people had idly watched her when she was a prostitute in the streets. She hadn't minded when people watched. She preferred it, even, when they paid her to masturbate in front of them. She at least wouldn't be hurt if it was her hand between her legs. And part of her actually liked to watch them watch her.

"I see. And how long do we have?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes?"

Mirri made a face. She'd hoped for longer.

Lilian smirked. "Not long enough for you, kitten?" she asked.

"I want to see what they can really do," Mirri said. "How can I do that if I don't have the time?"

Lilian laughed softly. "Another time then, I take it?"

"For tentacles," Mirri agreed. She glanced at Lilian shyly. "I wouldn't say no to other methods. If I can orgasm in time."

"Hm, is that a challenge?" Lilian asked. She was still teasing, but there was a new undercurrent to her voice that made Mirri shiver in place. She licked her lips, wanted to submit to Lilian, to let Lilian do whatever she wished to her. "You want me to prove myself?"

"Anyone can make someone orgasm with enough time," Mirri tried to match the edge in Lilian's voice and was rewarded with a flash of deepening arousal in Lilian's eyes. The tentacle rubbing against her leg coiled around it, the tip twitching underneath Mirri's skirt. "True skill is proven in the extremes of pleasure." It was a quote in a book that Mirri couldn't remember the name of. She liked the way it sounded.

"Hm, my kitten has high standards it seems," Lilian drew Mirri closer to her side. Her tentacles coiled around Mirri's thighs and nudged them apart ever so slightly. Their touch was no longer an embrace or a teasing caress. There was strength behind them, an unbreakable grip that Mirri instantly knew she couldn't escape from. "I like that about you, kitten."

"Really?" Mirri asked. She tried to keep her voice relaxed as Lilian's fingers crept underneath the waistband of her skirt. Her body trembled as Lilian stroked the skin of her hips. It shouldn't have been as arousing as it was. Lilian moved closer yet, so that there was very little space for Mirri between the pole and Lilian's body. The press of Lilian's muscular weight held Mirri as much as the tentacles did.

"Oh yes, kitten," Lilian said. "High standards are the mark of excellence. You are beyond compare, it's only right that I should rise to your level, than force you to lower yourself to mine. It's only what you deserve."

"Mmm," Mirri couldn't say anything else as Lilian continued to gently circle the crests of her hips with her fingers. She tensed as Lilian continued to stroke her, so close and yet so far from where she wanted to feel Lilian's fingers. Lilian's hands slipped deeper, on her thighs now and not her hips. Despite herself, Mirri glanced around at the other passengers. None were looking in their direction, but Mirri suddenly felt exposed with Lilian holding her like this. Even knowing the bubble was there, she was terribly vulnerable, wasn't she? If she made too much noise, they'd hear it, look over and see her. She licked at lips suddenly gone dry.

Lilian sensed the tension, paused, though her hands remained where they were. "If you want me to stop, if it ever gets too much for you, you only have to tell me so. That will always be true, kitten."

"I understand," Mirri said and she did. She didn't want Lilian to stop and told Lilian so. Lilian ran the pads of her thumbs across the inner skin of Mirri's thighs. Her arms were wrapped around Mirri's waist now, as much a restraint as the tentacles that held Mirri's legs. It was solid, immutable. It made Mirri feel safe, despite the inherent vulnerability of the situation. "How... how good is that 'look away' barrier?"

"One of my best, kitten," Lilian said. She nuzzled Mirri's neck. "But it's best not to test it more than necessary, hmm?"

"Mmm," Mirri said, a thrill of excitement at the possibility of discovery running through her. "Right. Of--" she nearly squeaked when Lilian's fingers _finally_ touched the sensitive skin between her legs. "Of course. Of course."

Lilian pressed her lips to the crook of Mirri's neck and began to suck at the spot. Mirri whimpered as her legs turned to jelly. Only the pole and the press of Lilian's body held her upright as Lilian nibbled on Mirri's skin gently. Her fingers moved slowly and surely across the folds of skin. Mirri trembled when Lilian's index finger fiddled with the little nub of flesh just outside of the entrance to her sheath. And yet, for everything that Lilian was doing, it _wasn't enough_. Mirri needed more, needed something faster, something that pressed harder. Heat pooled in her body, turned to liquid that filled the air with a haze.

"Anything you want me to do to you, kitten?" Lilian asked. "Any specific fantasy you want me to fulfill now?"

How could something so slow bring Mirri up to the heights of pleasure so quickly? Was it the presence of other people, the possibility of discovery? Was it Lilian's words, inflaming Mirri's imagination? Was it frustration, Mirri's desire for Lilian to go faster that drove the race of pleasure through her body? Mirri was inclined to say the later. She bit back a moan, her eyelids fluttering as a wave of pleasure washed over her, not nearly enough to satisfy the raging fire. It only threw gasoline onto the flames.

"Nothing specific," Mirri struggled to get the words out normally. "I-- I like it when you dominate me."

Lilian continued to work the spot on Mirri's neck. Mirri whimpered softly and Lilian's fingers curled around Mirri's most sensitive parts, claws prickling without hurting. Mirri felt heat in her body surge, felt herself grow wetter.

"Not a sound now, kitten," Lilian whispered. "Don't want them to see you like this, do you? Don't want to break the spell, do you? Shh."

Mirri stiffled a moan as Lilian finally slipped the tip of her finger into her entrance. Her body clenched around it. "No."

"Just no, kitten?" Lilian purred against Mirri's neck.

"Should I call you mistress?" Mirri asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She was almost teasing, but not quite and the question hung in the air between them, another layer of tension to resolve. Lilian's fingers slowed, held her still. Mirri's heart was pounding in her chest as she leaned back into Lilian's hands.

"Is that what you want to do, kitten?"

"Maybe," Mirri's thoughts were fogged. She tested the title, "Mistress."

Something inside of her shivered. Lilian's breath caught, Mirri could feel it. She could feel the beating of Lilian's heart, hard and fast. They were pressed so close together after all. Lilian thrust another finger in with the first and began to work Mirri with slow, shallow thrusts. The blaze of need was wildfire now, devouring all of Miri's senses and energy. She was focused to a single needed, her world no larger than Lilian.

"Mistress," Mirri repeated and the part of her that shivered liked it. She liked the way it felt on her tongue, the way it felt almost natural. Part of her remembered this, she thought, although Mirri herself didn't. Lilian added another finger and Mirri barely managed to keep in the moan.

"Please, more, mistress."

Say it again, kitten," Lilian's words were an order, a command. They were soft but unyielding against Mirri's ears. "Tell me what you want me to do to you, kitten. I want to hear you say what you want from me, kitten."

"Fuck me harder, mistress," Mirri was almost begging. "Give me more, mistress. Make me come, please."

" _How_ kitten?" Lilian asked.

It came out of Mirri in a rush. She didn't even know what she was saying, exactly. She just knew what she wanted, what she needed and that for some reason she needed to be quiet about it. She whispered it all to Lilian.

Lilian complied. Mirri clung desperately to the pole as Lilian skillfully mastered Mirri's body with her hands. It was hard and it was fast and Mirri grew dizzy with it as pleasure rocketed upward to join arousal. Her world contracted further, no more than Lilian's hands and fingers now. Occasionally the train would run over a small bump and Mirri would fall against the pole or against Lilian and she would remember that they were in public, that only a fragile spell kept people from noticing her and Lilian. She would flush with heat at the realization. Then Lilian would pull her back into the world where it was only the two of them and no one else.

The hand not concerned with Mirri's sheath moved up from her skirt, dragging a slick of wet arousal across Mirri's belly and up her chest. Lilian rubbed the tip of Mirri's breasts, knew how to touch Mirri so that Mirri felt the full pleasure of it. Mirri gasped, felt herself climb up and up and she hung by a thread.

Lilian withdrew the hand on Mirri's chest so she could wrap her fingers around Mirri's throat. There was no pressure, but the weight of her hand, the strength and vulnerability implied by the grip made Mirri tremble, intensified everything. Mirri felt a buzz of magic settle in her throat, her vocal cords.

"Feel free to scream, kitten," Lilian said as she held Mirri on the every edge for just a moment. "No one will hear you." Then she thrust her fingers in one last time and Mirri's orgasm exploded through her violently. She screamed, felt the magic counteract it and not a sound emerged from her. Mirri fell at terminal velocity from the height of pleasure Lilian had driven her to-- Lilian caught her, smoothed the fall into a scenic glide rather than a shattering plummet. Mirri could feel the train slowing and part of her was sad that they would be getting off.

Except they weren't. Lilian pushed her fingers into Mirri, her body forming a wall between Mirri and the rest of the world as people got on and people got off. Dizzy with pleasure, Mirri looked at the map. This was only the first of four stops between them and their destination. Lilian really could do Mirri quickly. As for her current state, Mirri could feel herself going red with embarrassment as people walked past them, but no one looked twice in their direction.

"You want to keep going, kitten? Or is that enough for you?" Lilian asked.

"Keep going, mistress," Mirri whispered back. "I want to see how many you can do."

Lilian smiled ever so slightly. "Of course."

There were more three stops before they got off of the train. Lilian's skillful fingers had Mirri crying out in orgasm at least once between each stop. One memorable occasion had her spasming with three consecutive ones at the same time while Lilian held her body still and outside their little bubble the rest of the world continued on its way. During the last stop, Lilian stroked Mirri tenderly, bringing Mirri down slowly and gently from her pleasure.

By the time that the train began to slow down for their stop, Mirri could stand on her own two feet although she was swaying from pleasure and the much slower, sedate caresses Lilian had offered her. She was soaked in her own pleasure, surely other people would notice it, even if they hadn't noticed the act taking place in front of them. She could _smell_ her own pheromones, rich and sweet and hazing her thoughts.

"Was that everything you wanted, kitten?" Lilian asked.

Mirri nodded, not quite trusting her vocal cords to spew anything out yet.

"I'm glad, kitten," Lilian said. She cleaned Mirri up with magic, wrapped her hands around Mirri's waist in a tight hug. Mirri was aware when the shield fell, the buzzing against her fingers no longer quite so loud or hard. "It was fun for me too."

"Yes," Mirri said, because to say anything else would be a lie. "Yes, it was-- it was wonderful-- Mistress."

"Hm, no need to call me that, kitten," Lilian said.

"What if I want to?" Mirri was calmer now, but she couldn't deny the way the deferential title seemed to feel right. Was it biology? Was it some residual memory? Was it Mirri, did it matter in the end? No one was forcing Mirri to use it, least of all Lilian. And Mirri liked having a name for Lilian, the way Lilian had a name for her. " What if I like it? Should I call you Missy instead?"

Lilian smiled. "If you truly wish for me to be your mistress, then who am I to deny you? Although I do like the sound of 'Missy'. Hmm."

"I think I'd like that, Missy," Mirri said. Lilian beamed, an instinctual reaction that made her glow. "Something to talk about, when you get back from hell?"

The amount of sexual stuff they needed to discuss was piling up. Mirri was glad she'd have a week to think things through.

Lilian pulled away slightly at the reminder. "Yes. Yes, of course."

Around them, the walls were contracting, expanding like muscles. Mirri reached out to touch one and it was warm against her fingers, pulsing as if there was a beating heart to it. The doors opened and she followed Lilian out onto the platform.

"There you are," Allison and the others said. "We were worried about you two."

Mirri smoothed down her hair slightly. Lilian just smiled.

"Oh well, just had a few private things to discuss," she said smoothly. "Didn't want to be interrupted."

This station was just as crowded as the other one, maybe a bit more so. The walls were lined with shops, so much so that the inside blended with the world outside. Large glyphs depicted clothes, rings, and other things. Mirri spotted one that looked like a book and her tail twitched in response.

"Private, huh?" Allison asked. "Sure, Lili, sure." The angels all laughed.

"Come on kitten," Lilian nudged Mirri toward the sign with a book on it. "We'll meet up with the rest of you later!"

"Cowards," Allison yelled after their retreating backs. "I wasn't going to ask for details!"

Lilian gestured rudely to her. Mirri giggled and threw her arms around Lilian as they walked away.

It was a nice day.


	10. Seven - Bookshop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lief's bondmate decides to look for Mirri. Lilian reveals a bit more about her past.

Lief hadn't been lying.

It would have been difficult for him to lie, admittedly. He had returned to the mansion, covered in the pheromones of an unbonded succubus. Class-A, the delicate layers of scent clinging to his skin identifying the other succubus better than any name given to an outsider. The incubus had revelled in them. Even when Lief had been unbonded, his pheromones had been edged with a bit of tart, a bit of sour. She'd made him burn with lust, the volatile pheromones had been even stronger as she made his skin feverish with heat. They had filled the air with a thick haze that she drank in. It was maddeningly familiar, a dream that the incubus had never let herself indulge in.

He'd babbled to her all he knew in a desperate and futile attempt to get relief. Her name, her description, her master. The incubus had been rather surprised to find that the General had access to this little corner of the universe and for a moment she'd feared that it was in an attempt to seek her out. But no-- the General had only sought a bit of downtime for herself and a pampering session for her pet.

Mirri. The rolled 'r's could be drawn out like the purr of a cat. An echo radiating through the years.

The incubus was old enough to remember the queen's incredible wedding gift to her favourite general. Then there had been the massive rebellion of incubi and succubi. The General had fought for the queen, of course. Her priceless pet had gone along with her until she'd almost been lost in a battlefield retreat. Then the general had sent her back to the palace, under the queen's care.

And then, of course, the mess that had been the final battle. Backstabbing and double-crosses had raged within each side. The rebellion fell in the end and there'd been hundreds of innocents caught in the crossfire between both sides. The incubus regretted their deaths. At least if the rebellion had won, their lives wouldn't have been stolen in vain. But they were and they had.

The general had tortured and executed her pet at the queen's command. The incubus would never forgive the queen for that order, nor the general for carrying it out unquestioningly. Then the general had taken leave before the wedding and she hadn't come back. The incubus certainly hadn't expected to find the general _here_ though, particularly not with the ghost of her previous pet.

The incubus had rewarded Lief thoroughly for bringing the matter to her attention and then wiped his memory so that he couldn't tell anyone else. Particularly not her husband. She'd married him for his looks and the influence his family held. Truthfully, he was an idiot and if she'd been smarter, she wouldn't have been so hasty. Ah well. Accidents happened, particularly in hell. Perhaps it was time for her husband to have one.

Then the incubus had gone looking for the general and her pet.

It wasn't that she didn't believe Lief or doubt his sincerity-- he couldn't have lied to her given how well she'd bound herself into his head and used his pleasure as a tool to cut him open and stitch him back up again-- she hadn't entirely been convinced. After all, he could have made a mistake. It happened. Succubi were prone to such things, the silly little creatures they were.

But Lief hadn't made a mistake.

The incubus had settled in a back part of the train, joining the flow of travellers through the hive and trying to be innocuous as she followed behind the group of angels and demons. One incubus alone was barely enough to be remarked upon, particularly in this hive with its links to hell. The succubus pet was exactly what Lief had said she was. The incubus had lost track of them briefly, some spell forcing her eyes to slide over them without seeing them. She wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't been deliberately trying to look for them.

But the spell didn't erase their scent or the succubus's pheromones and the way that the general had responded to them. So she knew they were still there, and felt a flash of fury at the general for being so crude.

The incubus brushed up against the succubus as they deboarded from the train and kept walking. The little bug was as big as a flea and much less noticeable. She carried it around for chances like this. As she walked past, it jumped from her sleeve to the pet's clothes. It would find a secure hiding spot on the succubus. Likely the general would find it and remove it, but until then the incubus had a spy.

And the archdemons protect the general if she so much as made the pet cry.

* * *

Mirri had better control over her form than she gave herself credit for. It wasn't conscious control, or Mirri would never have used a harness the way she did. But it amused Lilian to see that Mirri was leaning hard into the 'cat' aspect of a succubus. Her eyes were slit-pupiled now, her cute nose flatter with a distinctive cat-like shape. Standing next to Allison, her wings were considerably smaller, and the plume of fur that decorated its end much larger, extending further down her tail. Her horns were nubs, hidden by her hair.

Lilian didn't mention it though. Not yet at least. She'd enjoy it just a little bit longer.

Theo and Lucius accompanied the pair of demons to the bookstore. They claimed it was because they wanted to look at books. Lilian suspected that it was because the two of them wanted a break from the others and to get away on their own. They'd always been more of a pair, even if they did enjoy sexual and romantic relations with the rest of the squad.

Mirri didn't ask about them, though she glanced at them once or twice. They headed to the tech shop to pick up a scroll for Mirri first. Mirri dithered over the selection for a long time before picking out a rose-colored scroll and case. Theo and Lucius showed her how to set it up, while Lilian got a charm to go with the scroll-- a simple thing showing a stack of books and several black pawprints.

Soon after they arrived at the bookstore, Mirri lost herself in the reference section. Lilian orbited the entire store, idly picking up a book here and there with an interesting title. She didn't let her kitten out of her sight. Just because the bookstore was safer than the streets didn't mean that it was perfectly safe. She wouldn't risk her kitten, not again.

The demon finally settled on several books and sat down in a chair that let her see almost every area of the bookstore while she perused them. The words floated in and out of her attention as she daydreamed. Images floated in front of her eyes, a thousand and one outfits for her kitten. Rich satins, smooth and shining against Mirri's skin, wisps of silk the color of dawn silks. Intricate brocades, delicate laces, jewels worth entire planets-- all of it would be Mirri's if she asked for it. If only Mirri would give her the chance. If only Lilian could make up for everything she'd done wrong.

Lilian turned the page of her book and bit her lip, glanced up to make sure that her kitten was still looking at the atlases-- the answer was yes-- and then looked down at the book again. Her mind presented her with the image of Mirri dressed up as a princess, and Lilian was her knight in shining armour, come to save her from the dragon. Or maybe she was the dragon, come to rescue the princess from an unspeakable marriage. Or maybe just to steal the princess away for herself, so that someone would treasure her appropriately. A dragon always knew the value of what it held, unlike any other creature. Mirri was priceless. Her happiness was priceless.

The book slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. Lilian picked it up and opened it again. She turned the page, still thinking. The question was how to keep Mirri happy. Lilian's first instinct was to hide Mirri away from the world, from anyone else who would provide a threat. She would then pleasure Mirri senseless, let her do as she wished in the little bubble that would be her world.

But Mirri's nickname had proven to be well-earned. Mirri was curious, her most frequent request was for books and Lilian had seen the way that Mirri's eyes had turned to the portals of the other worlds. She wanted to explore and experience new things and places. Her hunger for knowledge ran deeper than the ability of mere words to satisfy it. Well-- if Mirri wanted to wander, Lilian would just have to convince Mirri to let Lilian come along. Lilian could do that. But if Mirri wanted to leave Lilian behind-- The thought made Lilian's heart clench.

"You're reading the book upside down."

Lilian looked up. Mirri had wrapped around the bookstore and back to Lilian's spot. Her stack of books was almost as tall as her head. The angle of the simulated sunlight had changed slightly as the hours had slid by. In one part of the store, Lucius was grabbing a book down for Theo. It was a peaceful shop.

"Lost in thought, kitten," Lilian said, turning her book the right way up and closing it.

Mirri tilted her head slightly, one ear twitching. "What are you thinking about?"

"Wondering if you'd like a trip to another dimension or not," Lilian came up with the idea on the spot, but it wasn't a bad idea. She wouldn't mind leaving Thalassia, trying some other place for a little while.

Mirri's ears twitched up slightly, towards Lilian. Her eyes brightened with interest, a more subtle sign than her ears. "What kind of trip?"

"Haven't decided yet," Lilian said truthfully. "Would you prefer an adventure, a trek through a wild, untamed land? A luxurious vacation? An abandoned city full of secrets to discover? The ability to sit by a sea without getting pounded by a storm?" Mirri laughed at that, and Lilian's heart unclenched slowly. She sat down on the arm of the chair where Lilian sat, the tip of her tail brushing against Lilian's tentacles as it twitched slowly from one side to the next. Lilian's tentacles tried to coil around the tail, hold it, but Mirri's tail was thinner and faster, escaping from their grip with ease.

"I want to visit a museum," Mirri said.

"A museum?" Lilian asked.

Mirri looked down at the books she held. "I-- I like learning things. I don't want to be just something you use for sex."

"Kitten..." Lilian's tentacle coiled around Mirri's waist and tried to hug her. Mirri's tail flicked back and forth. "You know that's not the way I see you, right? You're a companion, not a mistress."

Mirri's tail twitched, but some of the tension had eased from her body. She shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't bother me anymore."

Liar, Lilian thought. One tentacle began to stroke Mirri's shoulders, trying to massage them despite a certain disadvantage. "There is one dimension you might like then. It's a hop skip and a jump away. There's an intergalactic empire--"

"Intergalactic?" Mirri exclaimed. "As in multiple _galaxies?_ "

"Yep, five galaxies under the rule of one eternal sovereign," Lilian grinned.

"But-- how?" Mirri stuttered.

"Tradition, as I understand it. And having one god-like immortal ruler tends to cement tradition quickly," Lilian said. "But there's this one system dedicated to knowledge. There are entire space habitats the size of planets dedicated to a single museum." Mirri's eyes were wide and bright. She was smiling and Lilian never wanted to see that smile vanish.

"That must be incredible," she breathed out softly.

"Or perhaps we could visit the Library," Lilian said.

"The library?" Mirri frowned.

"The Library at the Crossroads," Lilian tugged Mirri's hair playfully. "The first library. The last library. A library that holds every record of every written word, even those that have been destroyed, those that have yet to be written."

Mirri's eyes got wider. "Every written word?"

"Mmhmm, want to know what I scribbled on my 2nd yearling test?" Lilian grinned at Mirri. "It's there, somewhere."

"I can't even imagine it," Mirri said. She sounded lost suddenly. "That much knowledge, at your fingertips."

"Neither can I, truthfully," Lilian admitted. "I also don't know where it is, but trying to find it would be a fun thing, don't you think?"

Mirri nodded her head quickly. "But would we have enough time? You said-- we only had three months together. And then--" she trailed off and didn't finish her sentence. Silence fell between them, heavy and painful.

"Don't worry about it, kitten," Lilian advised. "This world is yours now. And you have Allison and the angels."

Mirri made a face.

"What?" Lilian asked. "Don't you like them?"

"They're okay," Mirri said. "But they're... a bit much." She nibbled on her lip. "There's too much between them to join them, I guess. I'd be an extra wheel. But they are nice."

Lilian smiled and her tentacle drew Mirri into her lap. Mirri didn't resist, her wings adjusting so that they could fit better in the small space. "You're a one-person kind of person, aren't you?"

"Maybe not just _one_ person," Mirri said thoughtfully. "But not six people. Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all, kitten, just the way you are," Lilian smiled. She glanced at Mirri's stack of books. "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

Mirri nodded. "For the most part. There're a few specific things, but they don't matter as much."

"Well, then, if you're ready then let's get them paid for--" Lilian picked up the stack and one book, balanced precariously on the top, fell. It less a book and more a magazine and it read in bold letters 'Safe Sex across Species Lines: Experts on Tentacular Eroticism Speak'. Mirri flushed slightly and snatched the pamphlet away from Lilian's hands.

Lilian just smiled. "Got something to say, kitten?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Lilian ran one tentacle down Mirri's back, right between her wings. Mirri's wings fluttered on her back. "Maybe we should use this as a guide."

"It's boring and bland," Mirri said quickly. "There're better ideas on the net--" She stopped herself and flushed a deeper shade of red. "That is to say, my clients sometimes had wild ideas."

"And you looked them up," Lilian teased. "You know what they say about curiosity and cats."

"It kills them?" Mirri frowned at Lilian, looking hurt.

Lilian leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Satisfaction brings them back."

Mirri's tail flicked from one side to the other, the red flush spreading down her neck. But she was smiling again. "I suppose I'll just have to satisfy my curiosity then. So I can keep coming back to pester you with more questions."

Lilian grinned at her as she put the pamphlet on top of the books Mirri held. "I'm always happy to oblige. Can't have my kitten wasting away, pining for answers to her questions. What would others say-- what's this?"

The book underneath was dedicated to the modern history of hell. Modern, of course, meant in the past four millennia-- one had to take a long view when considering species that don't die until they were killed. Lilian wondered, idly, if it mentioned her birth in there somewhere. And then she realized that somewhere in the book there was probably a mention of her kitten. And she wasn't ready for that conversation. Still, four thousand years was a long time. It'd take Mirri awhile to go through it.

"Oh, I was curious," Mirri said. She wasn't looking at Lilian. "Besides, it's got you in it."

"Oh no," Lilian made a face and Mirri laughed again. "Don't read that. It's all propaganda."

"You're actually a general though? I thought that was just a nickname the angels gave you."

Lilian picked up half of Mirri's stack so the succubus wasn't straining under the weight of paper. "I am. It infuriated quite a few people. I was hatched in one of the lesser grounds of a low-ranking house. Had to fight my way to the top and that pissed off the demons that had hatched in better grounds and thought they were better because of it."

"Did you fight in any wars?" Mirri asked.

Lilian paused, wondering how much she could tell. "Yes. I have. The war against heaven, for example. And there's been several rebellions that I've needed to put down. I don't care for any of it though."

"Being a general? Why?" Mirri asked.

"I like fighting, I like tactics and strategies," Lilian explained. Her heart was twisting in her chest as she looked down into her kitten's bright bronze eyes. She saw her kitten screaming again. "But I hate politics and I hate having to kill and I hate having to put people that have been entrusted to me in danger. And-- well, no one ever tells you when you go to war that there's always people caught between sides."

"Oh," Mirri said, her voice soft. She hesitated. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Yes," Lilian didn't want to remember the battlefield. "I regret their deaths though."

"Even if they were trying to kill you?" Mirri was frowning.

"Yes. I can regret the situation was necessary," Lilian said quietly. Mirri bit her lip. "I like fighting. I don't like killing. There's a difference."

"Can you quit?"

Lilian's lips twitched slightly. "It's a position for life, kitten. Don't worry too much about it though."

"Why not?"

"Things are settling down. Wars tend to come in waves for demons. We're facing a lull period. Things should be peaceful for a while." Well, at least enough of a lull that the queen thought it was time to get married. Lilian had been pushing it off for as long as possible. She was still trying to push it off, trying to throw off the queen's claim on her. Once she was married-- that was it. She could never live like this again, on her own and independent.

Forget about it, she told herself.

"If things are settling down," Mirri reached the counter first and set the books onto it. "Will you have time to call me from hell?"

"I'll be pretty busy, kitten," Lilian said. "But I should be able to text you. I can send pictures of the palace and the people I meet."

Mirri perked up. "I'd like that!"

"Consider it done then," Lilian set her stack of books on the counter as well. The man behind the register looked at the stack. One eyebrow creeped upward on his face, but he didn't comment.

"Would you like a dimensional bag? It's an additional 10 credits," he said.

"Oh, yes, please," Lilian said and paid for everything. Mirri helped put the books into the offered book bag, which easily accommodated all of her new acquisitions Behind them, Theo and Lucius had arrived with their own section of books.

Theo's wrist dinged. He examined the communication unit on it. "The captain says that Allison's somehow settled on a pair of collars already and that there's a cafe down the street if you two want to grab a drink before you leave."

"Cafe?" Mirri glanced over at Lilian. She'd tried eating and drinking. Water was fine, but everything else made her vomit it back up.

"Oh!" Lilian hit herself and Mirri giggled. Lilian slung her arm around Mirri's shoulders. She wouldn't mind taking Mirri out on a date-- well, however much of a date you could have while going out with friends. "You'll enjoy it, kitten. Promise."


	11. Eight - Discussions at a Cafe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri talks to Allison

The cafe was nothing at all like Mirri expected. It was out on the street, for example, a series of walls and six-sided awnings shading the tables underneath from the bright light that filled the hive. The kitchen was at the center, walled in frosted glass. Steam coiled up from it, and through the glass, she could see the cooks working furiously. Near the counters, there were menus that looked colour-coded and a peppy-looking hostess waiting to seat people who came in. There was a back area where larger monsters chatted and ate, as well as several alcoves that held tiny tables illuminated by fairy lights. Scents mingled in the air, spicy and savoury and sweet all at once.

A pair of red-eyed women received red-bordered menus, sitting down at one set of tables with others who drank a suspiciously red drink from clear glass cups. A family sitting down at one of the larger tables got black-bordered menus from their waiter. The parents thanked the waiter, even as they tried to reign in their children. Across from Mirri, a pair of half-wolf, half-human monsters licked their lips as they dug into a meat pie. The chatter of conversation filled the air with a buzz of happiness and joy.

Allison and the rest of the angels had already picked out a table. A wall of flowers separated them from a trio of long, serpentine lizards reclined in a dell around a table. Allison perused a purple menu, and the host handed Lilian and Mirri purple menus of their own, although Lilian's was a different shade. The angels got gold menus, which were full of delicious looking treats and pastries. Mirri wished she could eat human food again. Those looked good.

Allison wore a different collar. It was a thin strip of black leather now, with a little brass bell dangling from the buckle. It jingled whenever she moved her head, filling the air with a pleasant sound. Allison's wings were folded neatly away, the tips brushing the ground as her tail swayed from one side to the other. Merric was also sporting a new pair of black leather cuffs that he looked rather proud of. The others also had bags at their sides.

"Looking good, Allie," Theo said as they joined the rest of the group at the table. He kissed the top of her head and ruffled her hair as they passed by. She grinned up at him and bowed.

Lilian sat down near Allie, and Mirri took up the seat between them.

"I bet you could still sneak up on Perrin," Lucius said. He flicked his fingers and the bell rang out cheerfully. Lucius smirked at Allie as he sat down next to Theo.

"No bet," Jamie said, glancing up from his menu.

"Don't encourage her," Perrin glared at Lucius and Jamie. Theo snickered.

Allie just smiled to herself as she set down her menu. Mirri opened hers up and blinked as the text rearranged itself into words she could read. The translation wasn't perfect, but it was serviceable, although she wasn't sure what 'Only one bed angst' could possibly taste like. That couldn't possibly be the right translation. And that wasn't even the weirdest of the translations. She paged through it slowly, trying to figure out what was safe.

"You should try the Zinger," Allison recommended, as Mirri hesitated. "It's a real nice spike right after a long shopping trip."

"Isn't a little early for alcohol?" Mirri asked, after finding the drink in the 'night out' section. According to the description, it was a mix of thrill, the rush of triumph, and the moment of sexual satisfaction on an alcoholic base. 

"It's never too early to party," Allison winked at Mirri. "Besides, alcohol doesn't affect us like it affects humans."

"It's not the alcohol that's going to hit your head," Lilian pointed out dryly as she paged through her own menu. Allison rolled her eyes and smirked slightly. "Oh, they managed to get jello to work?"

"Yeah, which you would know if you got out more." Allison leaned forward so she could address Lilian directly. Mirri pulled back, trying to keep a grip on her menu. "I almost forgot what your face looked like."

"I know I'm not as much fun as six angels," Lilian grinned at Allison. "But surely I'm not that forgettable."

"Well you're certainly putting that theory to the test," Allison stuck out her tongue.

"It is nice to see you again," Merrick said to Lilian. He rested one hand on Allison's shoulder. "We're all happy to visit. Even if some of us complain."

"Can we eat jello?" Mirri asked Lilian rather wistfully as she found the section of the menu that dealt with something other than drinks. She missed jello. It had been one of the last few solid foods she'd been able to eat before her body had begun to reject every physical food.

"Technically no, but this is a special kind," Allie said, before Lilian had a chance to answer. "It's regular water that's charged with magic that mimics jello. The problem is, usually when you do that, you burn out all the emotional flavouring you put in because there's only so much magic water can hold without exploding."

Mirri looked helplessly in Lilian's direction. Lilian was smiling. "Lust isn't the only form of energy we can eat, kitten. Places like this can put emotions, memories, all of that into water. It's like eating junk food, but heavens, it tastes good going down."

"Lilian's a glutton for love confessions," Allison stage-whispered to Mirri. The angels laughed.

"There's a 'cozy rainstorm', you might like," Lilian advised. Mirri had enough rainstorms for a lifetime though. She browsed the 'sunny side' list of drinks and desserts. When the waiter came to take their order, she settled on one at random -- a 'Mountain Sunset' jello treat -- just so she wasn't holding up anyone else. Lilian ordered a different drink 'Valentine Confessions'.

Allison scribbled something on a napkin and pushed it over to Mirri as the waiter walked away with their orders and menus. "Here's my scroll-code. Call whenever you feel like it. Doesn't matter what it is. Call me up just to say hi if you want to. Us free succubi have to stick together."

"Thanks," Mirri accepted the napkin, tucking it into her new bag. Something about it niggled at her mind, reminded her of the way that some sex workers in the higher precincts looked after each other and kept tabs of clients and younger workers. "You mentioned communities of--- of free succubi this morning, right?"

"Not as many as there should be," Allison said. She scooted her chair closer to Mirri's and whispered conspiratorily. "But I can introduce you to a few. Like I said, we have to stick together. Besides, if you ever get bored of the general there-- well, we can keep you fed." She winked at Mirri.

Dale reached over and tweaked the tip of Allison's ear. "Be nice, Allie."

"The general's not offended," Allison tilted her head at Lilian.

"I'm really not," Lilian said dryly. She cleared her throat slightly and smiled, but there was a bit of darkness in her eyes that Mirri didn't know what to think of. "Besides, most incubi are pretty boring."

"See?" Allison's tail flicked out. Mirri glanced behind her shoulder as she fist-bumped (tail-bumped?) the end of one of Lilian's tentacles. Dale rolled his eyes.

"Do you know where any of them are?" Mirri asked Lilian out of curiosity.

"No," Lilian shook her head, while Allison went stiff on Mirri's other side. "Well, I know the vague area, but none of the communities would ever let an incubus inside of them and I'd probably wander around in circles looking for them. Can't say I blame them for the paranoia, although I hear they're amazing places."

"Better than heaven for sure," Allison said. She glanced at Mirri. "We don't bring outsiders there often. Let's just say we tried that several times, and well-- it never ended prettily. So most are a succubus only club."

Mirri nodded, she understood that much at least. "But-- how do you know if you can even trust a succubus though?" There were sex workers that betrayed others to gangs or the mercy of the Officials after all. Surely things couldn't be that different.

"That's the trick isn't it?" Allison's lips twitched. "Who do you trust? Sometimes you just have to take a leap. Besides, I've got a good feeling about you."

Mirri smiled hesitantly. "You said you were born in one of those communities, right? What was it like?"

"Messy, but in the warm family kind of way," Allison said. "All the adults take care of the little ones since we hatch so young. I had about a hundred brood-siblings and all of the adults fussed over us. You wouldn't believe it. By the way, when you visit, they'll probably fuss over you too. It's intense, just roll with it. They mean well, even if it feels suffocating at times."

Mirri tried to imagine being fussed over like that. She'd had to be on her own for such a long time, had to struggle for everything she had. "That must be nice, to have strangers so concerned about you."

"No one's a stranger," Allison said. She rested a hand on Miri's gently. "You'll see."

Mirri smiled. "So if you were born in the community, how did you meet Dale and the others?"

"Oh, remember how I said it could feel suffocating? I felt suffocated, so I left. Struck out into the great wide world all on my own," Allison glanced at Dale. "Let's just say I fell into trouble and they helped pull me out. It's a long story. Honestly, if I didn't love all of them so much, I'd probably head back. There's nothing out here, except for them, that I couldn't find in the community."

Mirri nodded slightly.

The others had left them to their own conversation. Mirri glanced at them as Jamie and Charlie started up a fight over the complimentary biscuits. Perrin scolded the pair of brothers. Then she turned her attention back to Allison. She was obviously a sub to the others, but at the same time-- she wasn't.

"What's it like--" she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her question.

"Being in a relationship with multiple people?" Allie asked. "Exhausting, sometimes, but worth it. It's always worth it."

"Not that," Mirri shook her head. "I meant-- well-- they treat you like a pet yeah? But you're not one."

"Ah," Allie said thoughtfully. Her fingers flicked slightly and the world contracted around the two of them. "It's also worthwhile. There's something to letting yourself be vulnerable and trusting your partners not to hurt you. And letting someone else take the reigns so you don't have to think. Although I don't think that was quite your question. Do you want to know how we do it?"

"I guess-- I don't want to give up being myself," Mirri said. Her stomach was churning. "I want to like it. I just--" She looked away. "I don't want to be completely submissive, I guess."

"You don't have to," Allison said. "I'm only submissive when I'm wearing a collar specifically set aside for play. I wear these because I want to show my connection to them--" she fingered the leather collar at her throat and nodded at Dale and the other angels. "And because I like the way they feel. Mostly because I like the way they feel and look on me, to be honest."

Mirri nodded slowly. "I see."

"You've got to let the general know where your boundaries are though," Allie jabbed a finger in Lilian's direction. "Communication is everything and that goes double for stuff like this. You can't let her trample over you or it's not going to work out. Just because you're a sub doesn't mean you can't have a spine of steel."

"Lilian wouldn't do that," Mirri glanced in Lilian's direction for a moment.

"Sweetheart, she wouldn't mean to do it," Allie said. "But people can get carried away in the heat of the moment, especially if the scene's intense. We know that better than anyone."

"... Yeah," Mirri agreed. She bit her lip. "I do know that."

"To be fair," Allison said. "I don't think Lilian will. You're right to trust her, she's a good one. I'm just saying if you want to get the most out of this, you have to figure out where you stand and where your boundaries are. You're the only person that can do that. Lilian can help you find out, but you have to decide what you like and what you're comfortable with. She doesn't make that decision."

"I understand," Mirri said quietly.

She glanced at Lilian again, then turned her attention back to Allison. Their conversation fell into a lull for the moment and Allison dismissed the ward that had wrapped around them. For a while, the two of them just listened to the other's back-and-forth. Then Allison broke the silence by flicking her tail against Mirri's almost flirtatiously, "So, have you tried out the tentacles yet?"

"... no?" Mirri's ears twitched slightly. "Is there anything I should be concerned about?"

Allison crooked a finger at Mirri. Mirri glanced at Lilian again and then leaned over. "Do yourself a favour and look up vzzkhth," Allison smirked at Mirri. "You can thank me later."

Mirri gave Allison a strange look. "Why, what is it?"

"Don't corrupt my kitten, Allie," Lilian said without looking up from her discussion with Dale.

"You'll thank me too," Allison blew Lilian a kiss.

Lilian looked at Mirri. "Kitten?"

"I don't think I could pronounce it if I tried," Mirri said honestly, her wings shifting on her back. Lilian shot them both a look, then shook her head and rolled her eyes slightly at Allison. "Maybe it was a fss-- or a thzzchk or--" Her tongue twisted itself into knots.

"Don't hurt yourself, kitten," Lilian said as Mirri struggled. She shot Allison a look. "I'm sure I'll figure it out one way or another regardless."

"Oh you definitely will," Allison drawled.

The waiter came back with their food and drinks. Mirri inspected hers, a thick, gel sculpture that looked like an impressionist's three-dimensional rendering of a mountain. It glowed like the sun behind clouds, with a swirl of black and gold laced artistically through it. She sniffed it curiously, but there was nothing too distinctive. It smelled sweet, like sugar, but the menu had said it would have a sugar-base so there was nothing surprising there. She glanced over at Lilian's jello treat, which looked like dollops of foam and an intricately moulded structure that had to be impossible without magic. The inside looked like it held a storm and a fire all at once. Lilian stuck a spoon into it and took her first bite, closing her eyes in rapture.

"Go on," Allie said. She was giggling as she drank from the cup the waiter had put in front of her. "Try it."

Mirri did so cautiously. It was sweet, very sweet--

_\--The slant of golden sunlight across the world, gilding everything as far as the eye could see. Sitting beside someone, her heart full of things no one could name. The world had a chill, but she was warm and sluggish with raw content. Words fell past her ears as she rested her head on a shoulder--_

"Woah," Mirri set the drink down. She could still feel the content of the people involved, their warm happiness sliding through her veins.

"Intense, isn't it?" Allie grinned.

Intense definitely worked. Mirri took another cautious sip, but the initial memory didn't appear again. Instead, all she felt was the heavy weight of satisfaction, emotional fulfillment. Everything felt okay. It rolled through her. She tasted the sweetness, yes, but this was more than sweet. It was like-- it was like that one time she'd been given a free cup of hot chocolate on a stormy day. It was warm and happy and comfortable.

"This is amazing."

"Not what you were expecting?" Allie nudged her.

"Not at all," Mirri confessed. She paused. "Can we drink lust like this?"

"Yeah. There are arguments over whether or not it's actually healthy to eat that way, but most people agree there's not much difference," Allie rolled her eyes. "Sometimes you're just not in the mood for all the mess. You just want some food."

"I hear that," Mirri agreed.

She continued to chat with Allison and the others. The conversation was kept light-hearted. The angels and Lilian traded jokes, while Allison snickered and explained context to Mirri. There was also some mention of Allison's current research, some information exchanged about shared friends-- Mirri sat back and listened after a while, while she sipped her drink. She still felt warm and happy, but it came from her heart and not her stomach. She'd never had a group of people like this before, who laughed and joked and included her in it all. Was this what it was like to have friends? Could she even call them her friends after only a single day? Did she even dare? She'd been on her own for so long, did she even know how to interact with others? Her entire life had been about give and take, and no one had ever given her anything for free. They always expected something out of it. Even Lilian.

"You doing okay, kitten?" Lilian asked quietly, leaning over to Mirri. The angels and Allison had business of their own to get to, and Lilian and Mirri needed to head back to Thalassia. Mirri picked up her drink, mostly finished, and took the last few sips of emotion. "You've been withdrawn."

"I'm good," Mirri reassured her. "Just... it's just a bit new, that's all. And it's hitting me all at once."

"It is pretty different than Thalassia," Lilian said, looking out over the hive.

"In a good way," Mirri agreed. "It's a good different. I just--" I want to go back home. Except she didn't have a home. The closest she had was Lilian's apartment, and that was only temporary. Mirri-- didn't want to deal with that realization at all. She rubbed her shoulders. "I'm ready to head back to the apartment right now."

"Okay, kitten." Lilian's expression softened and she wrapped one arm around Mirri's shoulders. She hugged Mirri gently, then turned and waved to the others. "Mirri and I are headed back."

"Call us again soon," Dale waved. "We need to meet up more often."

"Will do!" Lilian promised. Mirri smiled and waved, then snuggled up against Lilian's side as the two of them turned away from the rest and headed down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry things are so slow storywise. I hope this chapter isn't too boring. Things should be picking up and get more interesting now, especially with Lilian and Mirri separating in the next few chapters. At least I finally got them out of the Hive. This side trip was originally meant to be one to two chapters max, I swear. 
> 
> Stay safe everyone!


	12. Nine - Return to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian returns to hell.

The rain had stopped by the time Mirri and Lilian made it back to their apartment. They settled back in, Mirri carefully arranging her books next to the small bed she had in the guest room. They were the first books she owned herself, and she was rather proud of them. Lilian's books, meanwhile, went on a hidden shelf in her study next to a long row of others by the same author. Mirri memorized the activation code. She wanted to know what was so important in those books that Lilian felt the need to hide them.

Lilian had to arrange something in one of her rooms to prep for her trip to hell, so Mirri had the rest of the apartment to herself. She fussed with her modelling portfolio for a little bit, but her heart wasn't into it. There wasn't anything worthwhile on the TV either, so she left it on the news. Reading was difficult to focus on as well, as strange smells and sounds drifting in from Lilian's bedroom. Eventually, Mirri headed out onto the small balcony area, leaning against the glass and steel railing.

It wasn't raining properly, but there was a fine mist that hovered in the air, falling in slow motion. Light reflected off of the tiny droplets so that the world was full of rainbow glows from the city below. The air was full of the scent of seawater. Clouds blotted out the moon and stars. A faint breeze made the chilly air even colder, and Mirri shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her body as she watched the world move below her. How small everything seemed when you stood this high up.

The TV was still on in the main room. Mirri could hear an official explain how to identify monsters that were disguised and how to report 'suspicious activity'. It was a low drone in the back of her mind, adding to a dull throb through her body. Her legs ached, her tail itched, her wings chafing underneath the harness. She wanted to stretch them out, let them breathe, metaphorically speaking. She stretched them in the aether, but it wasn't quite the same.

Strange, how only a few days had changed her so much. She never noticed the ache that keeping her human shape had caused before. This form wasn't wrong, but it was constrictive, like trying to fit into a body that was too small and too tight in all the wrong places. She found herself irritated at it in ways that she hadn't been before and then irritated at herself for being so annoyed at such a small discomfort.

But then, she'd had a taste of what life could be like. Not just the rich life, but a life where she didn't have to hide her wings. Of course, that world was almost as dangerous as Thalassia. She'd be killed if she was caught in Thalassia. She'd be a slave if she was caught in the Hive. Danger here, danger there. The succubi communities were probably her best bet, but who knew how that would go. Would it be restrictive? Would she like it? The world yawned before her, dizzying in its vastness and she was plunging headlong through it.

She wrapped her jacket even tighter around her shoulders as the slight breeze picked up into a brisk wind started up. The droplets grew larger, no longer a fine mist but a misting rain that promised to edge into a proper rainfall given enough time. Mirri put up her hood as droplets collected on the water-proofed suede of her jacket. She had three months to decide, she reassured herself. That was more than enough time to check out a community or two, see if it was a good fit. But she wasn't going to stay on Thalassia. She wanted a place where it was dry and warm.

And safe. She just wanted to be safe. Somewhere where she didn't have to constantly be looking over her shoulder.

Energy rolled through Mirri. She glanced over her shoulder, the hair on the back of her neck sticking straight up. She couldn't see Lilian, but she could feel whatever it was Lilian was doing. It made her tremble in place. It pressed against her senses and she wanted to do nothing more than unfurl her wings and fly as far away as possible. She bit her lip against the terror and fear. It seemed to go on forever, the misting rain transformed into a fierce shower that pelted Mirri's skin. Fat raindrops splattered across her face, soaking the bits of her the raincoat didn't cover. And still, the fear held her frozen.

Until it didn't. The relief from the fear hurt almost as much as the fear itself did.

Mirri leaned against the balcony, panting for breath she didn't need and watched as Lilian emerged into the main room. There was an aura around her, as if her body was leeching the light and colour from the world. Though Mirri knew she should get out of the rain, she couldn't convince her body to do it. Eventually, Lilian looked out the windows. Mirri waved to her, and Lilian sighed. Mirri watched as the incubus fetched her coat and an umbrella.

The dark aura faded as Lilian stepped out onto the balcony. The incubus unfurled the dark umbrella and held it over the two of them. Mirri's teeth chattered as the raindrops pattered on the umbrella's taut surface.

"What brings you out here, kitten?" Lilian asked. "You feeling okay?"

Mirri nodded her head. "Just... needed some fresh air."

Lilian's body was warm. It was fiercely hot, actually, as if she were a furnace. Mirri found herself made away of how cold the rain was, and edged closer to Lilian's body, leaning against her. Lilian wrapped an arm around Mirri's waist and pulled her closer yet. Mirri shivered.

"Let's go back inside," Lilian said. The hand on Mirri's waist shifted, moved up to her arm and rubbed it gently. "I could show you how to make an energy drink. Demon hot chocolate. Or we could warm you up some other way, huh?" That was added with a smile and a wink.

Mirri shook her head. She didn't want to go inside just yet. Her instincts were screaming at her to not go anywhere near the apartment. "I want to stay out here."

"You're sure, kitten?" Lilian asked. Mirri nodded.

Lilian hesitated, "Want to be by yourself?" Mirri shook her head quickly and wrapped both arms around Lilian's waist. She was warm, and Mirri was cold and the world was cold and dark and dangerous. Lilian was solid ground, but she was ground made out of sand, and Mirri didn't know how safe she would be when a storm came through. She didn't have a shelter. It'd always just been her.

"How long have you lived here?" Mirri asked.

"Not that long? I'm not sure of the actual amount of years." Lilian asked. Her lips quirked slightly "I move around the worlds a lot. Can't stay in one place for too long, you see. Used to be a potter on a desert realm. It was a bit too dry, so I'd thought I'd give a water world a try. It's a bit wetter than I imagined it to be." Mirri laughed softly. "What about you, kitten?" Lilian asked. "You don't have to tell me. If you don't want to."

Mirri bit her lip. "I was hatched in the outskirts of Thalassia. That was back when the rules weren't quite as strict. Managed to get a human ID and move into the city at one point. Things got a little bit easier after that." She didn't want to remember the nights where she hadn't been sure she'd survive to see the storm break or the morning announcements turn on. Or the days spent curled up in pipes, watching the rain fall and grateful for it because it meant she had a chance to heal herself. She didn't want to see Lilian's pity.

"I'm sorry, kitten," Lilian said softly. She rested her chin on top of Mirri's head. "You should never have had to live on your own like that."

"It's better than some options," Mirri said quietly. For all her struggles, at least she'd been free.

"I suppose," Lilian said quietly. Mirri glanced up at her, and Lilian's gaze was somewhere else. "You deserve better though."

"Because of who I am or what I am?" Mirri asked. A fiend had a hold of her tongue. Or maybe it was the way her body was torn between cold and heat. Lilian blinked slightly, looking down at Mirri.

"I'm not special," Mirri said, wrapping her arms around herself now. "I'm no one, nobody, nothing. Take away the fact that I'm a succubus -- would you even look twice at me?"

Lilian opened her mouth, then closed it. There was a look in her eyes that Mirri didn't know how to deal with, an intensity of emotion that burned as hot as a sun. If she got too close, Mirri would burn up. Lilian's voice held echoes of that intensity, something that made Mirri want to melt and run at the same time. "You're not nothing to me."

But why? The words were a lump in her throat, a poison paralyzing her tongue. Dare she ask? Did she want to know? Would Lilian even tell her? They stood without speaking, the rain filling the awkward silence and droning out the sound of the TV. Lilian looked as if she expected a reply. Mirri wasn't sure if she could give one. But, eventually, Lilian looked away and the two of them stood together. A gap between them yawned. Mirri could feel it.

"Does it matter?" Lilian suddenly asked.

"What?" Mirri asked.

"Does it matter why I was drawn to you?" Lilian asked.

Mirri looked down. She didn't have an answer to that question. Part of her wanted to say yes, the rest wanted to say no. She knew better than anyone that attraction was a coincidence of timing and mood and appearance. It was scent and instinct, nothing more. She wasn't even sure why she'd asked the question to Lilian at first. Something was fluttering in her heart, some blasphemous desire that Mirri needed to squash before it drew her into a world of hurt. "No."

They stood in awkward silence again.

"That night I went looking for a succubus," Lilian said quietly. "But I had no idea you were one at first. And sure, you remind me of someone I lost, but--" Lilian inhaled, exhaled. "You're not her. She's gone and I've accepted that. And the more I see of you, the more I see that you're not her. You're your own person."

Mirri's shoulders lot a little bit of their tension. "I see."

The silence that accompanied their conversation was a little less uncomfortable. Mirri leaned against Lilian's side, letting Lilian's warmth unfold around her like a cocoon.

"I'm leaving in a few hours," Lilian finally said after several long moments. Mirri hated the way her heart twisted in hr chest. She had been okay without Lilian, she'd be okay without her for a few weeks. "You may have free reign of the apartment, but my bedroom is off-limits, as are all the previous areas. Water the plants, clean up after anyone you bring back. Eat if you get hungry. Take care of yourself. Sound good?"

Mirri shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I'll be fine."

"Good," Lilian pressed a kiss to the top of Mirri's head and handed the umbrella off to Mirri before pulling away completely. "When you come back inside, I'd like to show you how to work the portals. Take your time though." Mirri fought the urge to reach out and step close to Lilian. She could feel the cold night now, the chill from the mist as it seemed to sink through her skin and muscles and bone. There was an echo in the silence left behind by Lilian, a soft whisper of words left unsaid. Mirri glanced away as Lilian slipped back into the apartment.

* * *

Hell smelled of sulfur and smoke. It smelled of heady spices, left to roast over the fire and the desires of all living things. In the distance, blue flames licked above lakes of molten sulfur. The hatching grounds were scattered around the lakes, the black pods of incubi kept separate from the blood-red ones of the succubi. A dry heat rushed over Lilian as soon as she stepped through the portal. For all that Lilian hated hell, it was a welcome relief. This was where she was meant to live.

She turned. Mirri stood on the other side of the portal, silently reciting the instructions Lilian had given her for dismantling the portal safely. There was another set of instructions that would allow Mirri to reactivate the portal. It was simple enough in practice, but Lilian had made sure that her kitten understood every step. The portal vanished, taking Mirri with it.

Lilian inhaled, exhaled. A jittery energy settled over her. She wanted to take the nearest portal back to Thalassia and throw herself into Mirri's arms, drowning in her scent and pheromones. Stupid incubus, Lilian chided herself. You've gone this long without a succubus, you can go without one now. Bringing Mirri to hell would be phenomenally stupid and dangerous. But her body was aching and so was her heart. Lilian let her tentacles unfold and they twitched in the air, seeking blindly for something that was no longer there.

She took a deep breath of the smoky air and breathed it out again. It didn't settle her. She could sense that something was missing.

The portal let out into one of the vast pavillions in the gardens of the palace. Pillars held up concentric layers of stone and glass that made up the ceiling. Deadly flowers blossomed in flowerbeds, vines full of thorns with blooms like grinning skulls twining their way up the pillars. Lilian could see a group of succubi entertaining politicians and lesser nobles and looked away from their faces. Her stomach churned and she fought to settle it.

A group of guards stepped into the pavilion and split formation. At their center was the Queen of the Incubi.

She was as devastatingly beautiful as she'd been the first time Lilian had laid eyes on her. Lips the colour of fresh blood, eyes glowing like firelight seen through rubies. Her black hair glistened under the light. Her tentacles were unearthly, shadow and bone and glimmers of light woven through them like the hypnotic glowing lures of a deep-sea predator. Her body was sleek, her silk dress clinging to toned curves.

Lilian's first love. Her future wife. The person who had given Lilian her first kitten and then ordered her to torture and kill her. And yet an echo of their love still burned in Lilian, hot and fierce and all-consuming. Just the sight of her reminded Lilian why she had first fallen in love.

"Your majesty," Lilian bowed her head. The Queen of the Incubi had a name, of course, but no one knew it. Lilian was allowed to use the name Sabine, which echoed with a trace of the Queen's true name.

"General, it is good to see you again. You've been away for far too long," Sabine held out her hand and Lilian took it. The two of them started through the garden together. "I have something I wish to show you. Something pleasant. Before--" She trailed off. "Well, we both know you're not here to have a vacation."

"No," Lilian agreed. Sabine guided her on a winding path through the vast gardens. Lilian inhaled, and the scent of the flowers filled her nose. They were full of human desires, human misery. It mingled in the air, bittersweet. Sabine plucked a few flowers here, a few there. Her nimble fingers wove the stems together into a long chain.

"You won't have to do anything," she said. "There are younger demons, looking to curry favour. I'll pass it off to them."

Lilian bowed her head slightly. Then she changed the topic, because she didn't want to have to discuss torture and execution and rebellion. She wasn't entirely sure the rebels were in the wrong. But she'd cast her lot in with her queen a long time ago and she couldn't change her allegiances now. "How does my house fare?"

"Well enough. They miss you though," Sabine said. "They want you to visit before you leave." Lilian's rise in the court had lifted her family up as well. Many members of her house had found prosperous positions in the palace. Lilian wasn't surprised that they wanted her to visit them, to reaffirm the ties of sworn kinship.

"I'll schedule something in," she said. "Good," Sabine smiled. A group of incubi passed by, low-classed succubi slaves trailing behind them. Two were leashed, runes glowing on the collars around their necks as they carried piles of cloth and clothing in their arms. The incubi bowed deeply to Sabine and then greeted Lilian with murmurs of 'General'.

They made their way through the public gardens to the private ones reserved only for the royal family. A stream of mercury flowed through the gardens, and a bridge arched gracefully over it. Lilian rested her hand on the bridge railing. Memories of her kitten hit, hard and unrelenting. They'd spent hours in the gardens, the two of them or the three of them.

Sabine rested her hand on Lilian's shoulder gently. "You still miss her."

Lilian didn't bother to answer the question. "Do you?"

"I regret her death," Sabine said quietly. Her eyes were somewhere distant, her voice empty of emotion. The words sounded trite coming from her. How useless they were. "There were other ways, I see that now."

Lilian didn't bother responding to that either. She doubted Sabine's ability to care. She saw them as mere pets, to be mourned and replaced. She'd never bonded as deeply to Mirri the way Lilian had. "You said you had something to show me?"

"Yes," Sabine linked the two ends of her flower chain together and set the crown of desire on Lilian's head. She smiled at Lilian and Lilian forced herself to smile back. "Come."

She took Lilian through the gardens, to her bedroom. Lilian's nostrils flared at the scent of a succubus. The twitchy nerves in her tentacles settled. She hesitated when Sabine opened the doors to the bedroom. Inside, it was much as it always had been -- soft curtains shifting in a breeze, diffusing the light. Lilian was reminded of another day, thousands of years ago when Sabine had brought her to the room to show her a little succubus. Lilian had looked into bronze eyes and fallen in love again that day.

In the present, she swallowed and stayed back, though Sabine pushed forward into the room.

"Sabine-- you know I don't want another pet," she said. There were thousands of reasons why; ranging from it being wrong on every ethical standpoint to the simple fact that no one would replace her kitten. Mirri came the closest, but she was not Lilian's kitten. She never could be.

"I know," Sabine took Lilian's hands and drew her into the room. "I just-- I want you to keep an open mind, okay?"

There was a succubus on Sabine's bed. Male, with black and purple coloration, patterns striping across his wings and tail. There were lavender spots on his face, his hair was a shade of lilac. The scent was wrong, viscerally so. Too sweet, like roses blooming. His eyes were the colour of amethysts. He was dressed in gauzy white, with delicate silver chains wrapping around him. He smiled hesitantly at Lilian. There was something familiar in the expression. Wrong face, wrong eyes, wrong, wrong, wrong. Her breath caught in her lungs.

"His name is--" Sabine spoke and the succubus quivered in place.

The name rolled through Lilian's soul. Fragile blossoms, falling petals in a slight breeze, frost lace on windows, echoes rolling through a mountain, a ghostly mist lit by morning sunlight. It wasn't quite the same as her kitten's name. Not exact, not perfect.

"That's impossible," Lilian shook in place.

"It's true," Sabine gripped Lilian's hand, hard.

"General," the succubus said shyly, almost as if he was afraid of speaking. The voice was wrong, but the lilt and cadence of his words was right. The lingering echo of General, the emotions bound to the quivering syllables. Her kitten in someone else's body. Lilian fought the lump that swelled in her throat as the succubus reached out and took her hands from the queen. She let him draw her to the bed and watched as he pressed his lips against her knuckles the way that her kitten had always done before as a greeting. "I missed you. Please forgive me. Forgive me for being wrong, for being--"

Lilian managed to get words out. He was richly scented, unbonded the way her kitten had been the first time she'd met her. There were echoes of her kitten's sweetness in his scent. There were ghosts of her kitten lingering in every motion, every gesture, deep in his eyes. He was wrong but he was right too. "You've done nothing wrong."

Sabine rested her hands on Lilian's shoulders. "I know he's not perfect. He's not her. But he has her memories. He loves us as much as she does."

Lilian's heart was racing in her chest. Her chest was tight. She didn't need to breathe but she felt like she was suffocating. The succubus pulled and Sabine pushed. Lilian inhaled and their pheromones were thick and heady in the air. Sabine's fingers curled through Lilian's hair, her breath hot on the skin of Lilian's shoulder.

"He's yours, if you want him," she said. "He could be ours."

Ours, the thought was tempting.

"General, please," the succubus pleaded. His hand rested on Lilian's tentacles, warm and comfortable. She was entranced by his lips. If her kitten had been a man, then the man would have those lips. His face too, was a memory of her kitten's, echoing its roundness. She reached out, stroked the skin of his cheek with his thumb. "Let me prove myself to you. Let me fix what I've done."

"You've done nothing wrong," she repeated. "Not once. Not ever."

He kissed her.


	13. Prompt - Threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian can be flexible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: f/f/m
> 
> Tentacles, double penetration, dominant/submissive, a little dirty talk, anal sex, oral sex, aphrodisiac/drugs (at least something that functions like them)

The succubus tasted of raw lust. He tasted of rich sweetness, of a cinnamon-edged spice. He kissed her without hesitation or reservation, his tongue darting across her lips before parting them. He kissed her the way her kitten had, so many years ago. Lilian kissed him back, nibbling on his full lower lip before deepening it. There was a desperation to the kiss, a kind of desire that only came from years spent apart. He kissed her as if she was life and he was inches from death--as if she could give him breath and he was drowning.

Her tongue slipped across his, seeking to please him. She tasted the chemical markers and hormones he produced. Her tongue tingled, her lips seeming to double in sensitivity. Her body lit itself on fire as she twisted her fingers into his hair and held him in place. He moaned softly into her mouth. She felt the moan as if it was her own, a low thrum through her body. She opened her eyes so she could watch as his violet eyes closed, his body relaxing against hers. He melted in her arms, and it was only by the strength of her tentacles that he stayed upright. When they parted, it was slow and reluctant. He didn't want to part from her, she was reluctant to deny him.

Sabine watched them both with approving eyes. She shifted position, now a weight at Lilian's back. Her arms wrapped around Lilian's waist, hands exploring her abdomen. Her fingers trailed along the curve of Lilian's suit jacket. The stiff, heavy silk was too hot for hell. It was too formal for the bedroom that they'd found themselves in. Lilian felt Sabine fiddle with the buttons that held it closed. Her tentacles coiled around Sabine's hands and pulled them away. She would take off her jacket when it suited her and not a moment before.

The succubus tried to kiss Lilian again, his eyes wide and bright. She held him back and he looked down at his hands and body. For a moment, his nails dug into the skin of his knees. He looked as if he loathed himself and that was not an expression Lilian ever wanted to see. It was too similar to the one that her kitten had given her, in those terrible days before she died.

"You don't like me anymore, do you?" he asked quietly. "I'm inadequate."

His shoulders were slumped. Lilian wished she knew what was going on in his head. She had a few memories of being male, but not many and those were vague and scattered recollections. What would it be like, to have the majority of your memories contradicting the rest of your soul and your fundamental self? The body of a demon reflected the soul that dwelled within it and shaped itself to match the demon's true self. They were not humans, who had to settle for the bodies that fate had given them and find ways to live with it.

"How many of her memories do you have?" Lilian asked. She was curious, and she didn't want to answer his question.

"Errolr has almost all of them," Sabine said. She settled on the bed beside Lilian, her tentacles interweaving with Lilian's. Lilian fought the urge to pull hers to the side. It was best not to make yourself enemies with the one you were going to share your bed with. Things had changed between them, irrevocably, but betrothals and marriages were sealed by oaths written in blood. "I've checked."

"That's... incredible," Lilian said quietly. She thought of Mirri on Thalassia.

"I'm sorry I settled as a male," Errolr bowed his head as if in shame. "I tried a female form. I did." His fingers were still claws, digging into his body. She picked up his hands and ran her fingers over his knuckles. In her grip, the tension in them eased, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

Lilian's heart squeezed. "Don't apologize. You cannot be anything but what you are."

"But you don't like me this way," Errolr bit his lip. His voice quavered. "You can't accept me like this."

It was true Lilian didn't care for men, or at least not the male form. It had never held any particular attraction for her outside of an aesthetic appeal. And in that sense, Errolr was pleasant to look at. His body was long-limbed and graceful. She doubted she would ever lie with him, the way that Sabine did, but there were ways to get around her distaste for the sexual aspects of the male form. She could be flexible.

She smiled at him, doing her best to keep it a gentle smile. "Don't fret about it, lovely one."

"But--" Errolr looked up, seemed to realize his mistake and then looked down.

Sabine glanced at Lilian. She freed her wrists from Lilian's grip and sat down just off to the side. The mattress shifted to accept her weight, her tentacles crowding Lilian's. She was grinning ever so slightly, obviously pleased that the two of them were getting along. "Perhaps you should show our pet how much you have missed him?"

Lilian bit back her instinctive, bitter response. And then she swallowed the one after that, which would not bode well. Best not to argue about that in front of Errolr. Best not to bring it up at all. She just smiled back at Sabine. "You just want to watch."

Sabine spread her arms, "I've already enjoyed his charms. He's everything our pet was. And more. Just let him show you."

"I've got a better idea," Lilian said. She ran her fingers along Sabine's tentacles. Shades of black, darkest grey, purple, and blue rippled and gave the appearance of smoke swirling along them. Tentacles were all fine and well, Lilian thought and ideas swirled through her mind. But there was no reason for them both to start out with the membranes. That could come later. "Starting with you taking off your dress."

"Hmm," Sabine studied Lilian and raised a single elegant eyebrow. "Why should I be undressed and you clothed? I am the queen."

Lilian smiled, and it felt brittle. The shards of their previous relationship weren't healed and they slashed open new wounds in her heart. But the old dynamic was comfortable and familiar, even if it didn't feel right anymore. "You are, of course. But you're _my_ queen right now. And I say that my queen shall take off her dress and trade her tentacles for legs."

Sabine smiled back, a seductive thing that had lured Lilian in so many times. There was an emptiness in it though. No, emptiness wasn't quite right. The expression was anything but empty. But it was shallow, without the depth of true feeling. Lilian wondered how she could have ever fallen for it in the beginning. She wondered where she would be now if she had been wiser. _Stop thinking_ , she shook herself. She couldn't afford to chase her thoughts through the fire.

"Very well," Sabine said. She raised her hands to her dress. One by one, she undid the laces that held the tight corset around her chest and abdomen. She set that aside as her breasts fell downwards, no longer supported by the corset. Errolr looked on with open interest. Lilian found herself wishing for Mirri. The dark silk of Sabine's dress rippled with rich colours. Sabine undid the buttons next and slid it from her shoulders so it pooled around her waist.

Her upper body was smooth and perfect, without any visible flaw. Toned muscles, graceful as a dancer's, shifted under her skin. Her hair rippled over her chest, as soft and shining as the silk around Sabine's waist. It was a sharp contrast against her skin, as perfect as the rest of her. Lilian wanted to defile Sabine's skin and hair and her perfect expression. She wanted to see Sabine ruined and desperate for relief, for desire. She wanted Sabine to beg and beg and beg for a mercy that wasn't necessarily going to come. She wanted revenge for everything that Sabine had forced her to do to her kitten, the price for every humiliation and tortured scream extracted from Sabine's soul.

She took a deep breath. Not in front of Errolr. Tonight she would please Sabine, please Errolr and ensure that he would at least have pleasant memories to add to all the terrible ones that likely floated around his head.

Sabine slipped out of her dress and pushed the fine silk onto the floor. Naked, she was as exquisite as she was clothed. Lilian waited and watched as Sabine's tentacles blurred together, running like molten wax taking on a new shape. Sabine's new form was part human, part incubus, her lower half that of a twin-tailed dragon with dangerous claws. She leaned back on the pillows, spreading her legs lazily so that they could both see that her perfection extended to every part of her. She expected them to come to her. Not right now. Sabine would work for her pleasure.

"Come here, Errolr," Lilian said to the succubus. He glanced up at her, the hopeful expression on his face making Lilian's heart hurt for its familiarity. He didn't require another command, almost scrambling to sit in her lap. Lilian undid the robe meant to show off his assets, opening it to remove any semblance of protection. It fell off of his arms and onto the bed almost as soon as it was open. She stroked his smooth skin, pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade. One of her tentacles coiled experimentally around his sword and he shuddered in her embrace. That was one thing she could do.

"Does that feel comfortable?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair. She drew him into her lap so that both of them faced Sabine.

He nodded his head. "Yes, general."

Her inner tentacles lifted up off of the bed, while the outer ones coiled loosely around his arms, his legs, his waist. She let her hands wander across his body. No, she wasn't interested in men, but that didn't mean she couldn't take an artistic appreciation of his body. Her tentacles parted his legs and held them wide apart. The ones around his arms didn't act, yet. Lilian thrived on their anticipation, the way that their eyes focused on her, waiting for her orders.

"Here's what's going to happen," Lilian said idly. She was still fully clothed and she enjoyed the sensation of power it gave her over her naked companions. They were so vulnerable, skin bared to the world, everything on full display. "Sabine, you are going to suck on Errolr and get him nice and worked up."

Sabine's eyes glittered. Lilian continued to stroke Errolr's skin. Two tentacles slipped onto his chest and moved up. He picked up one, his thumb sliding against the sensitive skin of the inner tentacle. The tips of the tentacle ended in clusters of small buds, each more sensitive than the last. Lilian fought a shudder. She needed to be in control for this to work.

"You, lovely one, need to do nothing more than sit back and let us work," she purred into Errolr's ear.

"General?" he asked, and there was a hesitant edge to his voice. She pressed a kiss to his neck, nibbling at the skin. He moaned softly as her fingers coiled around his throat possessively. "My gift to you, lovely one. We shall make love to you until you know nothing else, can think of nothing but pleasure, and then we shall do it again and again and again."

He moaned, louder this time.

Sabine licked her lips, her eyes focused on his mouth and lips. She slunk forward across the bed, while Lilian used a bit of magic to rearrange the pillows. She stacked them up behind her back as she trailed her fingers along Errolr's side. She enjoyed the way he shuddered beneath her.

"Sabine, you may begin when ready," Lilian said. "Let's see how hard you can get him."

Errolr was already hard. He'd been hard from the second he had kissed Lilian. He swallowed as Sabine curled her hand around his sword. She ran her thumb thoughtfully over the tip and his entire body shook against Lilian's. Sabine continued stroked the velvety skin, the tips of her nails just biting into his skin. Lilian watched for a bit, entranced by the grace of Sabine's hands as they moved. Then she remembered herself and coiled her tentacles around Errolr's body.

Two of her inner tentacles rested against his lips as if by accident as the two of them watched Sabine. Lilian could feel every inhale, every exhale across the sensitive buds that decorated their tips. The pheromones made the air feel thick. Lilian's thoughts were swimming in them. She sucked hard on Errolr's neck, hard enough to leave a bruise. He groaned, loud, long, and deep. His lips pressed against her tentacles. She felt his tongue dart across them experimentally.

"Do you want them?" she whispered in his ear. She liked asking questions, liked watching the expressions of her lovers as she forced them to tell her what they wanted from her. She liked making them beg her to give them what they needed. She liked making them voice their darkest wishes, the most twisted ways they wanted her to fuck them.

"Yes," he said.

"Tell me," she shifted her attention, nibbled on the tip of his ear. "Tell me, do you want me to fill your throat with them until you can see the bulge? Until I can feel it?"

"Yes," Errolr repeated, his voice almost breaking on the syllable.

"Say it," she ordered. "I want to hear it from your mouth."

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly opening into a perfect 'o' as Sabine's skillful hands played with the twin sacs dangling at the base of his sword. The queen bent her head and blew gently on it. It was swollen with blood now, hard and stiff. Lilian idly wondered if she could feel his pulse if she touched the blade.

"I want you to fuck my throat," he said in a voice that trembled. "I want to feel you inside of me. I want you to fill me up. Please."

He wasn't desperate, yet. That could change. Lilian slid her tentacles into his mouth. Just the tips, which never ventured past his tongue. She fought to control a shiver as his lips closed around her tentacles, rubbing up against the sensitive buds. His mouth was hot, warm and wet. His tongue stroked the tips, and he was so careful with his teeth to avoid biting down.

"Good," Lilian stroked his hair. Sabine had him straining for relief. He wasn't near a proper climax yet, but he was getting to the point where they might accidentally trigger a minor one if they weren't careful. The tip of his sword leaked drops of grace-charged nectar and the scent of pheromones thickened further. Sabine stared at the drops.

"Keep it clean, Sabine," Lilian said. "Lick it up."

Sabine bent her head to the task. Her tongue swiped delicately over the tip. Lilian gently angled Errolr's head so that he had the best possible view to watch the queen work. She fought a smile as she buried her head in his hair. It was enticing, to see Sabine in such a position, to have the queen of demons bending to Lilian's will. Only in the bedroom, of course, but it was such fun and reminded Lilian why she enjoyed Sabine.

Errolr shook as Sabine teased him with her tongue offering arousal but no satisfaction. Lilian's tentacles explored Errolr's mouth, playing with him even as he played with her tentacles. She could feel the changes sweeping across them, the tightness of the buds and the way they swelled up. She felt feverishly hot. His wings fluttered against her body and she ran her fingers along the arms of them, feeling the muscles beneath.

"Take him into your mouth," she told Sabine. Sabine took the tip into her mouth, her lips bright red against his sword. Errolr's body hummed against Lilian's. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought to control himself as she bobbed her head up and down. Sabine's tentacles twisted and twined in the air, coiling around two of Lilian's. Her legs were extended behind her, long and scaled and perfect. Lilian trailed several tentacles along their length, enjoying the feel of scale against the skin of her inner tentacles. They explored Sabine's body, which was as familiar as Mirri's.

Errolr's wings trembled. Lilian could feel the heat from them and saw the gold light spinning underneath his skin. It pulsed wildly, sinking into the contact points where her body was pressed up against his, where Sabine's lips were wrapped around his sword. A fierce sort of heat grew inflamed Lilian's blood. She wanted those lips on her. Focus, she thought and began to rub Errolr's tense muscles.

"That's it," Lilian said. She stroked Errolr's muscles until they began to relax. He let out a soft whimper as Sabine continued to fiddle with him shallowly. Drips of saliva slid down his sword. Errolr continued to lick at Lilian's tentacles. His tongue lapping and stroking, and running along them. She probed deeper into his mouth. Her tentacles shuddered and his eyes went wide.

She felt it when the buds opened. She slid one tentacle out and inspected it. It was wet from Errolr's attention, but the thick, clear fluid that slid slowly down the surface was far too thick to be from Errolr. Something like pure, distilled lust hung in Lilian's senses. She smiled as she let the fluid drip onto his lips and let the tentacle smear it across them. The one in his mouth rubbed every inch it could find. Errolr's eyes grew distant, dreamy. He sucked on the tentacles greedily. Lilian added a third and fourth one.

She pulled away the first eventually. She traced a line down his sword and left behind a trail of fluid so that Sabine could lap up the thick nectar. It was better than any drug for a succubus, but even incubi could be affected. Sabine switched from sword to tentacle and Lilian slid the tentacle of choice slowly into Sabine's throat, as far down as it could go. Sabine closed her eyes, sucking on it as her tongue massaged the limb. Lilian pulled it out and pushed it in a few times, then pulled it free completely. Sabine licked her lips, her expression was almost drunken.

The queen's tail tentacles rubbed along Errolr, spreading the thick fluid across his skin and into the tight hole at the base of his tail. No slime came from them. Like outer tentacles, there was only scale and smooth strength, nothing fun. The tentacles tapered at the ends but quickly grew thick and muscular.

"I think he's ready," Sabine said, her voice low and husky. Lilian freed a second tentacle from Errolr's mouth and helped Sabine, spreading more ooze around his tail region. Errolr moaned and whimpered around the remaining ones in his mouth as she teased the tight hole. Her tentacles poked in, but never further. The ones in his mouth thrust into his throat with growing speed, pumping one after the other. They weren't as thick as some of her other tentacles, but they were more than adequate for the purpose.

"What do you say?' Lilian asked. She pulled all four out of his throat. They dangled over his mouth, dripping ooze onto the rest of his face. Several, bored, began to play with his nipples, while others wandered across the rest of his body and left slippery ooze in their wake.

"Please," he begged. "Please, I need-- please, general, queen-- please--"

"Why don't you fuck his ass?" Lilian asked Sabine. She shifted Errolr now so that he was facing her. His head was almost in her lap, his ass presented to Sabine. His eyes were wild and bright with desperation. Lilian wanted to laugh. Or cry. Something in her wanted to cry as well.

"I'll do his face." Sabine looked disappointed. "I don't want his ass. I want his sword after all the effort I put into setting it up."

"Stop being so impatient," Lilian said. "It'll be there after we're done."

"Not with you fucking his face and slopping sweet nectar all over the place." Sabine grouched. "At least give him a little bitter nectar."

She paused and then rubbed the tips of her tentacles, unfolding another set from her body. Lilian rolled her eyes as the slightly acrid scent of bitter nectar cut through the sweet haze. "Open up for me."

Errolr's eyes went wide and his eyes shifted to Lilian. Lilian stroked the firm line of his jaw. Something cruel in her enjoyed his panicked expression. The rest of her felt tired. They'd only just begun and she wanted this entire thing to be over. Maybe she'd just give him to Sabine to enjoy. But if she didn't play her part now, Sabine would suspect something was up and the last thing Lilian wanted was for Sabine to find Mirri.

"Why so frightened, little one?" she asked him.

"Please," he begged. "Whatever I have done to offend, please be kind. Please don't hurt me."

"Oh, lovely one," Lilian pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "This isn't a punishment."

"We just want you to last long enough for us to turn you into a drooling puddle of bliss," Sabine said. She took the opportunity to slip a tentacle into his mouth and he sucked on it automatically. His eyes were wet with tears as he moaned. The bitter nectar could be cruel in the hands of an incubus. It increased arousal-- and it didn't let a succubus climax until it had been burned out by magic.

"There," Sabine said, "Now I can have both."

"Except for the fact that I don't want you to have both," Lilian said. "Behave."

Sabine's eyes flashed briefly. Then she sighed and smiled. "Very well, very well."

Her tentacles continued to play with his hole as her hands fiddled with his tail. Pheromones filled the air as Errolr moaned again. Lilian slipped a tentacle back into his mouth as she ran her hands down his wings, fingers finding all of the sensitive points.

"Now," she said to him. "Let's see how deep you can take me, hmmm?" she asked. She flexed her tentacles, picked out one he hadn't tended to yet. She held it in front of him and let him take it into his mouth. His throat swelled as she slowly pushed it in, his tongue sweeping along its length. She sighed at the heat. Instead of him, she imagined Mirri. Her kitten ensnared completely in Lilian's tentacles, helpless as Lilian explored the deepest parts of her. Her eyes, half-closed in bliss as Lilian pleasured every little piece of her she could reach.

Errolr moaned as Lilian went deeper and deeper. When he began to fight, she stopped and pulled back, withdrawing her tentacle almost completely. Then she thrust it in again. He moaned as she took his throat smoothly. Errolr stopped resisting eventually as he relaxed into the rhythm. Lilian purred compliments at him as she let the rest of her tentacles join in the fray while the rest entertained themselves with his wings, his skin, his flat breasts.

"That's it," she said. His eyes were fully hazed over now. She doubted he was aware of anything else at all. "That's it, you just relax."

Sabine was taking her time with his ass, playing with it and rubbing her tentacles between his legs. Occasionally they would flick at his sword, betraying Sabine's thoughts. Finally, she worked a single tentacle into his ass. Lilian felt the succubus shudder, his muscles tense up. Several of Lilian's tentacles massaged him as Sabine found her own pace. It was relentless, demanding. Sabine didn't make love, she fucked.

Errolr was jerked back and forth with the strength of her thrusts and his breath came in short gasps. He didn't need to breathe the way a human did. Lilian still timed her thrusts so that he could inhale, exhale again and she could feel his hot breath on her slick tentacles. She couldn't have said how long it went on. It felt like an eternity, just the three of them. Her tentacles braced Errolr when the strength of his muscles fled and he became nothing more than a doll for Sabine to manipulate.

"That's right," Sabine whispered to Errolr. "You can take me, can't you? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?"

He moaned around Lilian. It might have been a yes. His wings shuddered and twisted. Grace swirled like golden fire across their membranes, sank into a bright light that pulsed through his veins. Sabine thrust hard and he cried out. The light exploded from his skin and power slammed into Lilian, flushing her sight with its brilliance until she was blind to everything except his arousal, his pleasure, his desire to please, his desperation for completion. It was more intense than anything Mirri had let off, unlike her, he had been trained to direct everything to them.

Lilian's arousal rose and sharpened like a blade. It struck her heart. She wanted her kitten. She didn't want this poor substitute. She didn't want Sabine.

She took deep breaths, tried to clear her thoughts although they were unsettlingly focused on Mirri and stayed that way. It had never been like this before, the first time Lilian had bonded with a succubus. Then again, that had been a week-long affair where they had been skin to skin without interruptions to sex or desire. By the time the bonding had finished, Lilian had been utterly sated.

She didn't want this.

"Sabine," Lilian said. Her words were slurred slightly. Sabine looked up, eyes spinning with golden grace. She looked as drunken as Lilian felt. Errolr moaned mindlessly between them. His hips thrust one way and other, desperately seeking sensation. Lilian felt slow as she looked down at him, with their tentacles still buried deep within his body. Sabine's had slowed their pace, Lilian's had stopped completely.

"Yes?" Sabine asked.

"You still want that sword of his?" Lilian asked.

"Yes," Sabine said, her voice wavering.

Errolr's tongue worked at Lilian's tentacles as if to encourage them to move again. His hands stroked the main one in his mouth. He bobbed his head desperately. Sabine reached between his legs.

"You can have it," Lilian nudged Errolr to Sabine, pulling her tentacles free. Errolr all but fell into Sabine's lap and she rolled the both of them over so that he was under her. Sabine trapped him in her tentacles, wrapping them firmly around his body.

"You want him to service you with that mouth?" Sabine asked. Errolr moaned as Sabine sank down onto him, wiggling her hips back and forth. She tilted her head back, eyes closed in bliss. "There's more than enough room for both of us."

"You go ahead," Lilian said. She cleaned herself with a quick spell. "I-- I need some space right now."

Sabine frowned in Lilian's direction. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lilian waved off the question. "You have fun. It's been a while since I've done anything this demanding. I'm not the incubus I was."

Sabine's frown grew deeper but she didn't fight Lilian. "Alright. You take care of yourself, okay?"

"Okay," Lilian promised, and then she slipped out of the bedroom. There was no door to shut, and part of her wished that there had been. Lilian pushed through the curtains instead and leaned against the far wall of the hallway. She covered her face with one hand and struggled to breathe. The air was thick with the scent of their pheromones and she could still hear Sabine crying out and Errolr's weak gasps. If the succubus could walk tomorrow, Lilian would be surprised.

Tears, useless and hot, burned Lilian's eyes and blurred her vision.

"Stupid incubus," she muttered to herself. Then she picked herself up and strode down the hallway. 


	14. Prompt - Aftercare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian finds Errolr after the queen finishes with him.

Errolr hated the general.

He loved her too. That's why he hated her. His head was stuffed full of someone else's memories and it was _her_ who had loved the General with a fierceness that still took his breath away sometimes if he wasn't paying attention. Sometimes it felt like _she_ was a ghost in his head. It was worse when he was at the palace, where there were memories littering the grounds and the hallways and what felt like every room. He would stand there and a memory would rise up and all that lingering emotion would pound through his heart as if _he_ had been the one to live through those days, and not some long-dead demon.

 _Shut up_ , he wanted to scream at her. Because he remembered the way she'd died too. The memories were distant, dreamy. Some of them were like that. And he had holes, years and days missing randomly. But he'd been stuck with the ones where the general had tortured her (and through her, him). He'd been stuck with her death and he screamed at her to fight, but she always walked tamely up to the general's cruel, cruel claws.

But he couldn't stop loving her. Because that ghost in his head, the ghost with all the memories loved her.

Sometimes it felt as if he was two people, himself and that ghost in his head. Except she was part of him, her memories were his memories. He remembered being her, remembered the general's gentle caresses and the way her eyes lit up when she saw them.

He hated the general. He hated her because he wanted to take his body and carve it up until it fit her desires. He wanted to rip her to shreds, the way she had killed him. He hated her because she looked at him and she couldn't love him because she'd never been able to love a man, no matter how flexible she claimed to be.

At times, he hated himself. Because he knew he was male and he knew he could never change that. He'd tried. Archdemons, how he had tried. It had taken him year after bloody year for his form to settle because of the conflict between memory and mind and soul. He hated her that too, for causing that painful conflict in him. But he loved her.

Archdemons split his soul, he loved her.

He cried out when had she walked away, leaving him only with the queen. Things were easier with the queen. He'd never really loved the queen. His memories had shown her never being all that interested in him despite the fact that she'd bonded with him. He'd always been meant to be a gift to the general. Oh, how the tables had turned. The queen loved him now. Or rather loved the fact that now he was male and she could have him and the memories she needed to lure the general back to her side.

He was conscious, barely, when the queen finished with him. Their joint arousal and pleasure coated him. Every nerve and muscle had begun screaming in exhaustion hours ago, but the queen never cared about that. She took and took and took, never giving back. He was left alone on the bed, always a mess of cooling fluid. He always had to piece himself back together when she was done, to convince his worn-out body to move again.

He still hadn't climaxed-- sheer exhaustion had left his sword utterly limp. Everything in his body was hard-edged, demanding release but he was so tired that he couldn't even relax.

He heard the queen dressing and he opened his eyes. She was pulling on a new dress over her spell-cleaned body. When she saw him looking up at her, she smiled and walked back over to press a kiss on the top of his sweat-soaked hair. His heart twisted in his chest.

"I'll be back tonight," she promised. He shivered at the sound of the promise. He knew what it entailed. "I have a council meeting." She trailed a finger along his cheek. "You rest up now."

Errolr closed his eyes as she left. The skirts of her dress swished against the floor, the sound fading until she was gone and he could breathe again. The room fell silent again. Then a bird began to sing gently. He hated the sound of its song, just because it always sang outside this horrible, horrible room.

The soft sound of tentacles slithering across the floor made him open his eyes. He tried to lift his wings, but there was no energy left for that. The general stood in front of the bed and she sat on the floor beside it so that they were eye-to-eye.

"General?" he meant to say, but his tongue was limp and he couldn't manage it. _Help me please,_ he tried to tell her with his eyes. _I need you now, please. Please don't leave me alone. Please be the woman in my memories and not the one who killed me. I need you. I need you._

One of her tentacles lifted up, coiling around his sword. She stroked it until he came with an intensity that left him sobbing into the sheets. The orgasm swept over him, more painful than anything else. The relief, the pleasure, was a blade slicing his nerves until they lay open and raw. When she tried to massage him, he just hurt and she seemed to sense that because she didn't try to keep it up for very long.

She sighed softly, pressed a kiss to his forehead. He expected her to leave then. He should have known better. Instead of abandoning him, she stood and picked him up in her arms. He was no lightweight, but she lifted him as easily as he would lift a feather. Her body was warm, surprisingly so. Her arms felt as solid as rock. Surely there was no chance of her dropping him. He rested his head against the flat of her shoulder, unable to find the strength to hold it up.

She carried him from the bed to the bathing chamber just off of the main bedroom. It was enormous, more of a pool than a bath and more than enough room for the two of them. It was always full of water that steamed gently. Errolr had never used it. That was for the queen's use only. The queen, and the general apparently. No one stopped the general from adding flower petals to the bath and lowering Errolr gently into it.

The water was silky smooth against his skin. The heat sank into his sore muscles, bringing such a sweet relief that the relief was almost painful in and of itself. The general arranged him on a comfortable curve of stone before gathering up several stops. He watched as she stripped down and then slipped into the pool. She wasn't like the queen, with a perfect body that could make stone statues weep. Her body was marked from battle, from wielding a weapon for most of her life. It was a body that could carve flesh from bone and crush skulls between her hands beneath her tentacles. He'd felt her strength when she'd lifted him up so easily.

The general picked up a sponge and worked up a sweet-smelling lather with a bit of soap. She swam through the pool to his side. With a gentleness that seemed at odds with the strength of her body, she lifted up his arm and began to tenderly clean the half-congealed fluid that had coated him for what felt like hours. It came off in sticky clumps that drifted towards one end of the pool, drawn by a magical current that kept the water always crystal clear. He watched her work as she washed him.

He closed his eyes as she switched to his other arm. The sheer heat of the bath drained the tension stored in his muscles. He breathed in the steamy heat and heard only the gentle trickle of fresh water at the other end of the pool. The general cleaned his arms, his legs. She took extra care around his sword, but he still fought tears as the soap bubbles found tiny rifts in his skin and made him realize how raw he was from the queen's use. The general's power slid through his body, gently warming the region and bringing sweet relief from the pain as she healed him.

She sponged down the rest of his front, then shifted him around so she could do his back. He closed his eyes, resting his head on his arms as she ran the sponge in small circles. The queen had left deep scratches on his back, he didn't know when that had happened. Everything tended to blur together. The general healed those wounds as well and he shuddered as the pain left him. The water was hot, but her hands were somehow warmer.

She drained the tension from his body, letting him relax. He was still too exhausted to fall asleep, but if he couldn't sleep this was the next best thing. She dunked him in the water once and then began to clean his hair. The shampoo made a thick, luxurious lather as she gently massaged his scalp. He'd never been bathed like this. Baths were always sexual or they were perfunctory. He was scrubbed down, rinsed, and then dried off as quickly as possible. But this-- this was surely the height of luxury.

She rinsed out his hair next. She held his head carefully so that none of the soap fell into his eyes when she poured water onto his scalp. Then she let him rest against one wall of the pool. He cracked open his eyes-- he'd nearly forgotten he'd closed them in his exhaustion. He watched her as she bathed. She dipped in and out of the water as if she'd been born to it, as graceful in the pool as she was on land.

When she was clean, she returned to him. She lifted him out of the pool and set him down on a padded table probably meant for massages. It was covered in soft towels, freshly warmed. She was already dry, a pool of water around her. He wondered why she didn't just dry him off with a spell the way she had dried herself. He found he didn't care, because she bundled him up in a fluffy robe and then carried him across the private royal courtyard and down a short hallway. There was a room there, one full of bittersweet memories, a room he recognized. It was smaller than the queen's chambers but no less luxurious.

She placed him down on a bed slightly different than the one he remembered. The decor, too, wasn't quite the same. But the room was. It was the general's bedroom, freshly cleaned and dusted for her use. The bed was smaller than the queen's, but more than big enough for both of them. For a moment, his heart clenched and he wondered if she wanted the same thing that the queen did.

She tucked him beneath sheets of silk and satin, arranged the pillows comfortably around his body.

"Sleep," she told him, and he was already halfway there, he didn't need her to tell him to sleep.

She kissed him on the forehead, then turned to go. He reached out before he really knew what he was doing, closing his hand around her wrist. She stiffened and turned back to him. Any hope that she loved him back was dashed at the expression on her face. Not disgust, not distaste, but it was a rejection of him that made him hurt. It was the same expression that she'd worn when he'd first been introduced to her. She would never accept him. Not the way he was now. That glowing love in his memories, that was forever beyond his reach.

He dropped her hand and pulled it back to his side. The word he wanted to say was a lump in his throat. He wanted to scream at her, what part of him did she find so unforgivable? What part of him was too ugly for her to accept? Except he knew the answer to that question and it wasn't something he could ever change.

She smoothed the blankets back into place and then sat down on the bed beside him. He heard her sigh.

"I'm sorry," she said, and the words weren't the ones Errolr expected her to say. "I'm sorry, Errolr. I can't be the person you want."

He hated her for those words. They made it harder to hate her, harder to fight the pulse in his heart that beat only for her.

"Why?" he asked. "Why treat me like this then?" The queen didn't love him, he knew. He was just a tool to draw the general back to the queen's side and bind her firmly to the queen again. The fact that he pleased the queen more than the succubus in his memories ever had was just a bonus.

"Because everyone deserves kindness," she said. When she looked at him, there was something in his eyes that made his chest tight. She looked at him as if the sight of him hurt her as much as seeing her hurt him. "Especially the ones that never get it. Especially the ones that we hurt the most."

His chest felt tight. "You haven't hurt me."

"You remember how she died. That is enough for me."

"She's not me," he snarled, forgetting himself. Then he recoiled, expecting a strike. The queen lashed him when he refused the identity in his memories. So had the people who had hatched him when they realized how much they could get for him if he was the queen's reborn pet. But the general didn't even move. He repeated the words, more to himself than to her. "She's not me."

"No," the general agreed. "She's not."

He swallowed, because that hurt to hear, even if it was something he'd always told himself. Because it meant he'd failed to please his masters. And it was a stupid thought. He couldn't stand how submissive that person in his memories was sometimes. True submission had been beaten into him; the same submission had come so naturally to _her_. He was a rock in the middle of roaring rapids, forcing the stream to part around him. She had been the water, flowing around obstacles.

"You're your own person, Errolr," the general said, her voice soft. "Do not love me because the person in your memories does. Do not love me because you have to. There's someone out there who will love you in your entirety, not just the bit of you that's the ghost of someone else."

"Easy for you to say," he said. But there was something tight in his chest that had begun to unknot. As if by hearing her voice everything he had been telling himself gave his emotions freedom. Not permission, exactly but maybe validation.

She rested her hand on his head, ran her fingers through his hair affectionately. But it wasn't the lingering touch in his memories. This was-- sisterly almost. Not romantic, but still loving. Could he do that? He glanced at her and found it was a bit easier this time. He didn't hurt as much. Could she love him, even if it wasn't romantic? Could he live with that? Part of him said no. Part of him found it a relief, a pressure off of his back. She didn't expect him to be something he wasn't.

"Sleep," she told him as she stood. "The queen will not disturb you while you sleep here."

"Stay," the word was no longer a lump in his throat. "Please."

She hesitated.

"I don't want to be alone," he confessed. "Her majesty always leaves me alone."

In the training cloister, he had never been alone. He had slept with the other succubi after training sessions and they'd helped bring each other back down after working with the trainers had left them feeling incomplete, unsatisfied. He had never loved any of them, but there had been an easy sort of -- kinship. More than friendship, not entirely familial, but so different from romantic love that it might as well be in a different dimension. He doubted he'd get that with an incubus. But she was the closest thing he had and he didn't want to be alone.

"Alright," she said, her voice soft. "I'll stay."

Errolr closed his eyes. He listened to the birds chirping, not quite as annoying as before. He could hear a trickle of water somewhere. He wasn't entirely sure where it came from but found that it didn't annoy him. He could hear the general's quiet, regular breaths.

"Errolr?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Yes?" He wasn't asleep yet, but exhaustion had begun to claim him. He was drifting on soft clouds made of silk and satin. He was warm, his muscles limp. They would be sore tomorrow, he thought, but not nearly as sore as they'd been before. He wouldn't hurt.

"How old are you?"

Why did she want to know that? Demons were born full-grown. Errolr had hatched, with only his inability to settle in one form and the legal battle over him due to his memories preventing him from being sold and bonded before he was a year old.

"I'm thirty," he said.

"Thirty," the general mused to herself. Errolr yawned. He wanted to ask why, but he couldn't really find his tongue as soft grey darkness descended down over him and then he forgot his question entirely to the shadows.


	15. Ten - Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri encounters someone she used to know a long time ago.

Mirri had never realized how much time and energy she'd spent trying to survive.

Before Lilian, her days and nights had been overtaken with the need to eat, to get money for clothes and laundry and protection fees. She started out in debt and had worked night and day to break even on the interest when the end of the month came. The fight between cold and hunger had demanded every spare second she had. Sometimes groups had been worth the pain and soul-exhausting effort, just so she could feel warm for an hour or two until they were bored of her.

After Lilian... well, she had a bed she didn't have to pay for, and as far as food went, every meal since Lilian had been an all-you-can-eat buffet that Mirri had stuffed herself at. She didn't have to worry about anyone breaking into the tiny apartment she'd lived in or the hunters sweeping through the streets discovering her at a wrong moment. She didn't have to worry about healing too slowly, wasting precious time in recovery. She didn't _have_ to go out and find clients, praying that they would be gentle or kind. She didn't have to head to a bigger, richer precinct, hoping that they would pay better and that she wouldn't be caught.

Mirri had spent the first few hours after Lilian had left productively. She'd started with putting together a basic portfolio of herself, figuring that if she was going to be a model, she needed evidence of herself acting like one. Of course, she didn't have a lot of material to work with. She wasn't a photographer, she dared not waste money on one, and well she didn't want to ruin Lilian's camera trying to learn.

So she'd started her portfolio by going through the pictures of her first photoshoot with Lilian. There were quite a few of them, and she'd considered each one carefully. Most of them were a bit too revealing, but the first few were promising if she cropped out some of the more debatable aspects. Of course, editing the pictures proved to be a task in and of itself. She wasn't entirely familiar with the ins and outs of the various programs on Lilian's computer. She could figure out the basics, of course, but some of the more advanced stuff required a bit of research and experimental error. Eventually, she'd managed to create something that wasn't perfect, but it was clean enough and showed a satisfactory range, as required by a self-help article on portfolio creation.

Then Mirri had tracked down several modelling jobs and applied to every possible one that she might possibly fit into. That had taken her all of an hour, while she didn't know how to handle a portfolio, she did know how to apply to things and find jobs. She rarely got the job in the past though. No one ever wanted to give a job to a scrawny prostitute whose clothes were worn thin. First impressions went a long way. But Mirri could _finally_ give a good impression now. Freshly-washed, with new clothes-- she was practically a new person.

That had been yesterday.

As for today-- she had nothing to do except check the applications and she had already done that at a rate that was unhealthy. She had tried to read. She'd brought all of her new books out into the living room and spread them across the floor as she sprawled on the couch. She paged through them, but none of the words had grabbed at her. It just wasn't as... fun without Lilian. It wasn't that Lilian and Mirri interacted all that much while Mirri read. More like Mirri had gotten used to having Lilian nearby. The incubus had always been hard at work at whatever she'd been doing. Occasionally, her hand had brushed against Mirri's knee or shoulder while Mirri read beside her. It had been comfortable.

Yes, that was the word. _Comfortable_. Mirri had grown to like being comfortable. She'd just never realized how much Lilian's presence had gone into helping her feel that way. Lilian was disciplined, following a schedule like clockwork and that had dictated every day that Mirri had been with her. To be fair, Lilian was the client and she was paying for Mirri's company, Mirri was expected to follow Lilian around and be there whenever, however, Lilian wanted. It was just that Lilian had never wanted anything that Mirri had expected to provide. She'd been so consistent too. Even when there had been small upsets to that schedule, Mirri probably could have predicted them. But now, she was gone and Mirri--

(Mirri missed her, didn't she? No, she wasn't going to think about that possibility.)

Mirri was bored.

Insufferably, unbelievably, infuriatingly bored. She'd even opened a thesaurus at one point as a source of entertainment.

Mirri fiddled with the page of the book she was studying. It was one on the anatomy of succubi and incubi, which was interesting enough in its own right. The two species of demons mostly followed the human layout of organs. Mostly. Things were a bit looser since all necessary organs took up considerably less space than they did in a human, leaving the rest of the succubi and incubi bodies for specialization. Most of their 'organs' were involved entirely in the ability of a succubus or incubus to increase sexual pleasure, or pseudo organs with no real purpose at all, other than to resemble the complementary organ of a human. The rectari and its accompanying structures, for example, were one such feature. It replaced the anus and some of the larger intestine. Without the need to expel physical waste in demons, it only resembled the human version. In terms of actual _function_ , it was much closer to the vagina in terms of sexual pleasure it could bring and protective measures meant to keep the succubus from being harmed during sex.

Interesting. Mirri had a feeling if she was in a better mood, she would be devouring the information.

But she was bored and everything she looked at was boring, barely worth her time.

Off to the side, there was a book on the history of incubi. Mirri had quickly become irritated by and then tired of the long mentions of battle tactics and tedious details of politics and policies of people who had been dead for centuries. No one had told her that modern history was thousands of years old! She'd skipped to the most recent section of demons and had just reached the mention of Lilian's birth before she'd gotten bored again. That had been interesting, but then mentions of Lilian had vanished into some sort of court discussion over the final details of insurance and inheritance.

A small stack of books just within reach held most of Lilian's romance novels, plundered from underneath _Mirri's_ bed of all places _._ Mirri had to wonder if Lilian had forgotten they were there, or just assumed that Mirri wouldn't think to look for anything underneath the bed. The books had originally proven-- well, not _interesting_ , exactly. Fun was a better word for it, perhaps. But they were mostly about sex, and Mirri gave up on them when sex began to overtake the plot of the books. She was a succubus. She expected a bit more from her romance novels than sex scenes with overly florid prose.

Her scroll was propped up on a small stand beside her. Mirri lazily surfed the monster news channels for a time. There were only a few she could get, and most of them were discussing how anti-monster Thalassia was. (Yeah, thanks, she knew that one from experience.) She'd called Lilian late last night, but Lilian hadn't responded. She'd called again earlier that day, but Lilian hadn't answered that time either, and Mirri didn't want to seem too desperate for someone else to talk to. She briefly considered calling Allison, but the thought of reaching out to the other succubus was-- intimidating. She didn't want to pester the other succubus either.

So she sat in an apartment that had suddenly become big and empty and she'd spent hours staring at books without actually absorbing any of the information in them.

"I need to get out," Mirri said to the ceiling of the apartment. She rolled onto her back so she could look up at it. It said nothing back to her, of course. She would have been very surprised if it had answered. Mirri's wings were itching. They usually did that if she was getting hungry, except it felt... _different_ than it usually did. With the meals she'd gotten off of Lilian, she could go another day without actually being hungry. And when she seriously considered a meal, she didn't _feel_ hungry either. Her wings still itched.

"Maybe I'm just bored?" Mirri asked the ceiling. Predictably, it didn't respond that time either, although Mirri wished it would. She'd have someone else to talk to for instance. "Can you be hungry if you're bored?"

She'd never been bored before.

Mirri sighed and got to her feet. Maybe she just needed to get out of the apartment, get some fresh air.

She changed into an outfit that she wouldn't mind getting a little beat up. It flattered her without being ridiculously revealing, a short-knee-length dress with a skirt that fluffed out with the help of several petticoats and bounced when she moved. She twirled in front of the mirror a few times before putting her hair up into a pragmatic braid. If she went to a club, she could snag a free meal. And if she was still bored, at least she would be bored around other people. Other people tended to be interesting though and she didn't really feel like being alone right now. Or maybe she could just take a stroll through the city. It was raining right now, but the entertainment circles had boardwalks ceilings and walls of glass so that you could stay dry in even the harshest winter storm.

Besides, there was that list of monster-friendly clubs that Lilian had mentioned. Maybe they'd be better than your average human club. Maybe she just needed to stretch her wings. Figuratively speaking, of course.

* * *

Mirri had been to the entertainment districts before, but not like this. Before, she'd always skirted around the edges and lurked in the shadows cast by grander things. It wasn't just the buildings or the people that strolled down the streets, dressed in clothes that Mirri had never dreamed she could wear before she met Lilian. Sex workers here weren't desperate, not like those in the farther precincts of the city. They were dazzling and sensual, flaunting themselves with a confidence that Mirri had never felt. She'd ventured here once or twice before, just to watch them. She'd never be able to pass as one.

She might be able to pass now, in appearance at least. Their confidence was something that she'd never have. Even if she wanted to pass as one, however, it was a bad idea. These sex workers banded together and defended their territory (and each other) with tooth and nail against other groups and bad clients. It was join their ranks or die. Mirri doubted that they'd let her join their ranks.

And then there was the whole issue of her being a succubus. People in the outer precincts didn't care. Or if they did care, they took care of the problem themselves and the suspected monster vanished, never to be seen again. Usually, it wasn't worth the effort of getting officials involved. You never knew who they might take out before they left once they got there after all. In the outer precincts, everyone had a secret to hide. Best not to involve the law.

But officials crowded the entertainment circles and if you wanted someone to vanish, well, you might as well make it legal. Even if someone wasn't actually a monster, they rarely came back once the officials grabbed them. Thalassia only gave lip service to tolerating monsters.

So it was strange, to walk down the bright streets as one of the hundreds who belonged there. No one looked twice at her. Well, sometimes they looked twice. She could taste their lust for her, simple and uncomplicated. Mirri lifted her hand to tug at the binding of her harness, just to be double-sure that it was properly fastened. It had been a bit loose, but not by much. She tightened it further, part of her luxuriating in the press of the silk straps against her skin. Some of the looks died off, but not all of them.

The outer entertainment circles were full of shopping, theaters, restaurants and cafes. They were family-friendly and family-centered. Mirri spotted plenty of children running alongside their parents as she strolled along, enjoying the brisk air. It was slightly salty, sure, but nothing at all like the briny air in the precinct where Mirri had lived. Bars were usually set in the middle of the circles, along with most clubs, with the more risque clubs at the center of the circles. Sex workers generally hung out in the clubs at the centermost circle, which was an adult-only space and generally unfriendly to children.

She wandered in a slow circle around the entertainment district, spiralling down into the center of the circles. As she walked through, she enjoyed the sights and sounds around her. Bright, colorful lights came from ads plastered on building windows above her head and strings of shimmering lightbulbs around outdoor seating. Buses and trains zoomed from the outer edges into the inner circle and back again. People swirled and chatted all around her. They wore all the latest possible fashions in every style-- long sweeping dresses made of nothing but layers of translucent cloth, short skirts and crop tops, pants and jackets styled after military dress. 

Eventually, she found herself in front of one of the monster-friendly clubs near the heart of the district. The club's name was Crescent Bites, and the logo depicted a moon with a large bite taken out of it and a pair of glowing eyes like stars just inside the curve. A pair of burly men stood outside the main door beside a third, somewhat scrawnier man who scanned the people who lined up in front of the club. Their teeth were just a bit too sharp, their eyes were a fierce golden yellow.

Wolves. Mirri slowed to a halt. The last time she'd dealt with wolves-- no. She wouldn't remember that. There were several small packs in the city, usually limited to the precinct in which they lived. They were semi-constant. She didn't remember this group which was probably a good sign.

One wolf sniffed the air and then turned to her. Gathering her courage, she squared her shoulders and walked up to the door, joining the short line that had formed there. The wolves looked at her a bit doubtfully, but let her through with the rest. She slipped around the tables and bar that filled the first section of the club. It was dark in the club, with strings of green and blue lights illuminating the room. Rippling patterns of white light created the illusion of being underwater. Most people wore fish-themed clothes, with gigantic sequins like scales and waving bits of translucent cloth-like fins.

More than a few people had sealskin jackets or dresses, chatting happily as they lounged in chairs set around the dance floor. Selkies! Mirri had heard of them-- everyone in the outer precincts had heard of them -- but she'd never seen one before. They lived almost entirely in the depths of Thalassia's stormy seas, only coming up every now and then to find a wife who they often drowned by accident when they tried to return to the waves.

Mirri didn't actually believe that last part, but she did believe that they lived in the sea rather than the city itself. If she was a selkie, she would do the same. Why deal with the officials when you could just avoid them entirely? Why limit yourself to one stupid city when you could have the entire ocean at your disposal?

The dance floor was crowded. Someone was singing, her voice low and sultry, and she was accompanied by instruments that Mirri didn't know the names to. Mirri didn't recognize the language either, but it didn't bother her. Lust clouded the air like a fine buffet as the music flowed around and past her. She was drawn to the dance floor and the people around her split to let her through. She thought she could see smiles, full of sharp teeth, but none of that bothered her. It was the music, the music that drew her forward. She wanted to dance.

Hands slid against skin and sequined dresses that clung tightly to bodies. Someone grabbed her hand when she got too close to the dance floor and pulled her onto it. She didn't resist as people rubbed up against her. Someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her hard against their body. She smiled as she wrapped her arms around their shoulders. Someone else came up behind and suddenly she was sandwiched between them as their hands wandered down her sides, exploring her body. She didn't care. She was dancing, they were dancing. Somewhere in the back of her mind-- but the woman was singing and her voice was a siren call, an enchantment in and of itself.

The music had a magic of its own. Mirri felt tireless as if she could dance forever. Once she started, she couldn't stop. She was passed between partners, between people, never with them longer than a heartbeat. The song went on and on. Eventually, she thought she could understand it. It was something about white-crested waves, of never-ending cycles, of spring and animals coming together under bright moons. An eternal cycle, a dance of life. The desire to breed and be bred, to run and chase and challenge. All according to the endless dance, the first dance.

She danced and danced, barely aware of the time. And something inside of her was screaming, the spell cast over Mirri unable to drown it all out. Something about her being tired and breathless. But how could she be either? Someone grabbed her skirt as she pressed herself against them. Their hand explored underneath it. Something was wrong with the situation. She couldn't think.

A hand closed roughly against her upper arm and someone dragged Mirri off the dance floor. Mirri protested until the person clapped a hand around her throat, hissing a 'Don't' in her ear. She stumbled as she was pulled free, her heart pounding in her chest and her lungs breathless. She saw bits and flashes, a man with a sealskin coat stepping in to join the wild dance, catching a woman in his arms. She saw a woman with a sealskin draped around her shoulders take a man to the floor, their limbs entangled together. The humans had begun to shed their clothes, a mass of limbs and skin.

The person who had pulled her off the dance floor took her into an alcove. It was quiet and dark. The woman's voice no longer seemed quite so enchanting or musical. Mirri couldn't understand the words anymore.

Mirri glanced at the dance floor and her heart picked up its pace as she saw the wolves and selkies descend on the dancers like it was a buffet. And maybe it was. The realization that she'd been charmed hit Mirri like a bucket of seawater to the face.

There was a table in the alcove. She slid into one of the benches, her legs feeling weak and exhaustion dragging at her limbs. She heard the other person sitting down as well. There was a shifting of metal bits and then a light flickered to life. Simulated firelight flickered inside an antique-styled lantern. It filled the alcove with a cheery amber glow at odds with the watery light in the rest of the club.

The other person was a woman. She was vaguely-familiar looking, her straight auburn hair cut precisely around an ash-pale face. Her eyes were the color of amber, richly orange and hard as stone. Her lips were painted black, matching her sleek satin dress. The dress itself was trimmed in black lace that was set with sparkling purple gemstones in strategic locations. She wore a leather jacket over it, the leather at odds with the rest of her appearance.

"Thank you," Mirri said, rubbing her shoulders. She couldn't help but stare at the other woman. The sensation of familiarity squirmed in Mirri's stomach like a worm working its way through a rotten apple. "I know you."

"For shame, Twelve," the woman chided. "We were bedmates."

Mirri stiffened. Twelve. Only a handful of people had known her by that name (out of those who cared to know her name at all) and most of them were dead by this point. She looked at the woman again, trying to place her. After a moment, it hit her like a bolt of lightning. " _Chrissy_?"

The woman smiled and revealed teeth sharper than knives. "So you do remember me."

"I thought you were dead," Mirri said.

"Well, you never tried all that hard to find out, did you?" Chrissy asked, and there was an edge to that. Mirri didn't let it bother her. She and Chrissy had never been friends. They hadn't been enemies either. The best definition was wary allies, perhaps. Even so-- one day Chrissy had been there, the next she'd been gone. Mirri had known by that point not to ask too many questions.

"Did you ever try to find me?" Mirri asked.

Chrissy snorted. "Fair enough. I see you've made something of yourself." Her eyes skated over Mirri's body, taking in the fine fabric that made up Mirri's dress and it's fluffy underskirts. Mirri fought the urge to smooth the skirt across her lap. Something about Chrissy's look made her feel like a bug. "Is that actually yours or did you just spread your legs for the biggest shark on the reef the way you always do?"

Mirri's stomach squirmed again. "Does it matter? What have you been doing?"

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Chrissy said with a playful grin at Mirri that was at odds with the animosity in her statement. She'd always been that way, words and tone leaving Mirri on uncertain ground. Apparently, some things never changed. "I'm a seeker. I find lost things for people. And yourself? How have you spent the years?"

"Trying to expand into a modelling career," Mirri said. "I had a windfall and decided to take the chance."

Chrissy looked up and down Mirri's body. "Aren't you a little on the chubby side for that?"

Mirri leaned back slightly and glanced down at herself. She was actually rather proud of the smooth curves that she'd developed in the place of bony protrusions. For the first time in her life, she felt healthy. She felt _good_. Of course with Chrissy's comment-- maybe she had been overdoing it? But-- but she couldn't see her ribs anymore. She'd always been able to see her ribs. 

"I'm sure that someone will like you," Chrissy said, suddenly. "Forget I mentioned anything."

Mirri sighed and shook the thoughts out of her head. She was a succubus, she reminded herself. Even if she did 'gain weight', it didn't take much effort for her to change that. She was fretting about nothing. And she liked the way she looked, she reminded herself.

"You said you were a seeker, right?" Mirri said cautiously. Conversations were usually easier if she let Chrissy talk about herself. She hoped that hadn't changed. "How's that? It sounds exciting."

"It's utterly boring," Chrissy rolled her eyes. "But it gets the bills paid. Just last week, I got the most ridiculous request imaginable. I had to find a ball gag for this-- well, you don't want to hear the specifics. They wouldn't interest you. I bet you do spicier things all the time, am I right?"

It actually did sound boring. And the last thing Mirri was interested in was the details of someone else's sex life. "Not really. Most people just want a quick lay. Nothing... _spicy_."

"I can't believe that," Chrissy said with a smile. "Look at you, dressed like a little vixen! If they're paying you well enough that you can afford _organic_ silk--" She nudged Mirri's foot underneath the table. "They've got to be interesting. I bet you have them lined up around the block, yeah?"

"Just one, and she's new," Mirri decided that was safe enough to share. She started plotting ways for her to extract herself from the conversation without being rude. "She's very generous. I think she just took pity on me."

"Oh?" Chrissy nudged Mirri's foot under the table. "Tell me more."

Mirri didn't want to tell Chrissy anything more about Lilian. Lilian was... special. She regretted ever bringing her up and tried to change the subject. "Have you ever met anyone else from-- from the orphanage?"

"Don't you know?" Chrissy leaned back in the chair. The expression of disgust was back. Mirri could deal with that at least and she just shrugged her shoulders in response. The look in Chrissy's eyes made her feel small and worthless. As if Mirri should have-- could have-- done something. 

"I never had the courage to look," Mirri said.

Chrissy sniffed. "You've never had the courage to do anything. Well, I went back. Someone ratted out the owners and the Officials came in to do a clean sweep. I managed to get some of them out, but most--" she shrugged an elegant shoulder. "You know what the officials do to monsters they find."

Mirri looked down at her hands. "Oh."

"But this is good," Chrissy said, putting on a bright smile. It didn't reach her eyes. "We never thought that you managed to survive. In fact, I'm hosting a little party, a reunion of sorts. You should come." She reached into her purse and pulled out a pen. Mirri watched as she scribbled an address on a napkin and then pushed it at Mirri. "Here. For old time's sake. Drop by at least, you don't have to stay."

"... Thanks," Mirri took it uncertainly and then pocketed it. "Who... who survived?"

There had been maybe thirty orphans, all told. The youngest had been five, the oldest had been seventeen. No one lasted long after their seventeenth birthday. Some vanished, most were taken away by officials. Mirri had always wondered which group had it better. She'd also been determined not to fall into either category. Chrissy had been determined to burn the whole place down.

"Tristan," Chrissy said. "Eddie, Beatrice. Murphy and Cam." Five people? Mirri's heart turned over again. She could put names with faces, but that was it. She'd never been particularly close to any of the other orphans.

"So few?" Mirri asked.

"The officials were thorough," Chrissy said. "Not many of us got out." She paused and something in her purse buzzed. Mirri watched as Chrissy pulled it out and flicked stiletto-sharp nails across the glass surface of her com. "Well, I've got to run. A new meeting with a client. I hope he hasn't misplaced the diamonds again. So embarrassing. Think about attending the party, okay?"

"I will," Mirri promised and wondered why Chrissy was pushing so hard. Chrissy tucked the unit back into her purse and stood. Before she turned to go, she glanced back at Mirri. When she smiled, the expression was full of sharp teeth. Mirri leaned back in her seat.

"Before I forget to tell you, the party has a theme. It's fairy feast. Wear something sexy when you come, yeah? Not-- whatever that is." She flicked her fingers at Mirri's dress.

Mirri swallowed. "I understand," she promised. 

"Excellent," Chrissy smiled one last time and then she vanished into the club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~It's backstory time!~
> 
> (Nervous laughter)
> 
> Anyway, it might be a bit early but happy holidays everyone! Thank you so much for reading. Stay safe.


	16. Eleven - What Kills a Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian and Mirri talk.

There was no way Mirri was going to that party.

At least, that's what she told herself. She couldn't bring herself to throw the paper napkin away though. Part of her had always wondered what had happened to the others eventually. People left the orphanage, of course, once they aged out. But no one ever heard from them again and the general consensus was that the officials got to them some way. And some just straight up vanished never to be seen again. There were always rumors about what happened to them: they'd been sold to labs, they'd been sold to a slave trade, they'd been sold for sex. Some ran away, maybe. It was hard to tell who ran and who died. Mirri supposed she fit into the latter group, the people who had vanished without a trace. She was just glad she'd left and she didn't exactly regret never looking back.

But Chrissy's words did make her wonder if she'd been a bit selfish. Maybe she should have gone back to help out the others. On the other hand, it wasn't like any of them had been friends. She'd been on her own, the others had made that perfectly clear when they rejected her from their circles. It was best not to think of it, she finally decided. She couldn't change things now.

And she still wasn't going to the party.

The words on the napkin wouldn't leave her mind though. She'd glanced at the piece of paper until they were branded on the back of her head. 'Heart of Song, Siren Lane, First Precinct, 8:00 on Tides-day. Don't be late!' Chrissy had drawn a smiley face on the napkin too, and the dot on the exclamation point had been a heart. It seemed too cutesy for someone as intense as Chrissy.

She _wasn't_ going to that party.

She lingered in the club for awhile yet, but Chrissy's appearance had left her too unsettled to find someone to spend the night with. Eventually she gave up on it and returned to the apartment, taking a circuitous route that was meant to disorient anyone following her. She didn't think anyone was but... better safe than sorry. And she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was _up_ with Chrissy, something that she didn't want to get tangled up in.

Mirri looked up the others when she got back to the apartment. Actually, she first looked up the orphanage which had gone under exactly in the way that Chrissy had described. There was no mention of what happened to the monsters afterward, of course, but Mirri hadn't expected there to be. Carefully, she tried to look up the others, but it was a rather pointless task when she didn't know anything about them as it was and couldn't exactly search 'where do I find X monster?' without triggering government flags. Besides, Chrissy would have worked hard to protect the others from attention. She probably had them safe in some secure part of the city's underground (well, so to speak), while she moved about in the open.

She could pass for human, nominally, but the others had a worse lot. Tristan was part dragon and it showed in his horns and scales, Cam was the type of pyschic that broke windows and threw stuff (and people) around when she got too upset and couldn't control it. At least-- she hadn't been able to control it when Mirri had met her. The other two weren't much better. She wondered how they'd changed over the years. Chrissy was still... fundamentally Chrissy now that Mirri thought about it. Nice one second, cruel the next and you never really knew what she was going to do.

Playing back their conversation over in her head, Mirri _did_ wonder if Chrissy was more antagonistic than before. It was hard to say. The orphanage owners had Mirri working from dusk to dawn with whatever clients they'd been able to find, and Mirri had typically slept through the best part of the day. It had isolated her from the others, even if the other orphans hadn't resented her for her 'laziness'. She'd never had to do any of the normal chores after all. She doubted she'd find any sympathy from them even if they'd known what the owners had her doing. It wasn't like the sex took any work on her part.

After a bit of fruitless searching, she checked the clubs in the first precinct. None of them were named 'Heart of Song', so she widened the search to include restaurants, and then bars. She got a single match. It was a small place, intensely private and reserved mostly for politicians and the elite of the elite. The kind of place where you needed to go through a three-month approval list before getting an invitation. Trying to get in without an invitation generally lead to jail time. Not because the person tried to get inside, but for all the other little things that could get someone imprisoned.

Mirri sighed as she closed out of the program. "Does she think I'm stupid?"

The apartment, of course, didn't answer. Unfortunately, Mirri knew the answer already. She wasn't smart. Not like Chrissy or even Lilian. She wouldn't ever be smart. She was scrappy, she could be determined, but she'd never be smart. But still, it kind of hurt to think that Chrissy believe she was that stupid.

She shouldn't dwell on this. She shut down Lilian's computer and walked away before she did anything else she could regret. Her books were still scattered where she'd left them, open to pages of text she'd abandoned. The printed words had never seemed so small or dense-- or as unreadable. Mirri sighed and picked them up, stacking them into new piles. She picked her scroll off of the ground as well, anxiously checking it for messages from Lilian.

The incubus had sent a few texts and the sight of them made Mirri's heart leap into her chest. Several were pictures of fantastical gardens and terrifyingly beautiful architecture. Mirri had never seen anything look so lovely, delicate, and deadly all at the same time. She admired them, but she also didn't want to look at the same time. Lilian had also sent a request for a video call, along with several times. Mirri picked the earliest one before she even really knew what she was doing. She wanted to talk to Lilian, maybe she would have an opinion on Chrissy's motivations. On the other hand, this was a Mirri problem and Lilian would undoubtedly be burdened with incubus things.

Allison had also sent her a picture. This one was of a lovely mountainside and showed the angels practicing aerial combat. The message accompanying the picture was chatty: 'The boys needed to work out some excess energy. We're all doing fine. How are you?'

Mirri hesitantly answered the question: 'I'm fine. Can we talk more about succubi?'

She waited a few moments, but Allison didn't answer. Lilian did send a cheerful 'Time set, Kitten!'.

Mirri rolled the scroll back up again and set it aside. She had a few hours until Lilian wanted to chat. She ought to spend some of it doing something.

She curled up on the couch, picking up the history book again. She fiddled with the section on Lilian. On one hand, she was curious about Lilian's life and there was probably nothing in the book that Mirri couldn't find out in other ways. On the other hand... it felt invasive to read about it, especially when she could just ask Lilian. Mirri peeked at the first page, but it was just about Lilian's early life as a young incubus. That made Mirri's mind up for her.

She flipped past it to the next chapter, which was more of the same. Mirri skipped that as well. The chapter after more or less picked up with the queen's ascension to the throne. As had become the norm for the book, there was a tedious discussion of why certain groups had supported or opposed the queen's coronation and how this profited them or not. The book managed to make ten increasingly desperate assassination attempts boring. Mirri had gone through five of them before she realized that they were supposed to be vaguely interesting.

Mirri skipped over those pages and just started looking for pictures. There weren't very many of them, unless they were tactical maps of one sort or another. Or pictures of important people posed for portraits. And even, then, those were accompanied by a detailed description of the terrain and forces that made the pictures almost unnecessary (if it weren't for the fact that Mirri nearly fell asleep while trying to read them). Then it was a hundred pages of battlefield tactics. Mirri idly scanned through it, saw a picture, and stopped.

The image depicted Lilian standing solemnly in a dark uniform. There was a sword at one side, a wealth of medals pinned above her left breast, and a set of gold decorations that resembled armor made of bone. Her hair, deep and tyrian purple, was pulled up into a simple twist and held in place by a golden ribcage comb. She looked like a general. She looked like someone who command the respect of an army of thousands. She looked like she could take on an army and come out on top, without a single medal out of place.

Mirri licked lips that had suddenly gone dry (part of her wondered if perhaps she'd be able to see the uniform in person, the other part of her simply wanted Lilian to be the Lilian that Mirri knew). The caption simply read 'General Liliaire - Upon Her Promotion'. Mirri traced the image with her fingertips. How much of what Lilian showed her was the true Lilian?

A few pages later, there was another picture. It showed Lilian and the Queen standing together, giving each other a starry-eyed smile. Lilian wore a white version of her uniform, a red sash across her chest. The queen wore red, with a white sash. The caption indicated that this was some kind of official betrothal picture. For some reason, seeing them together made Mirri's stomach churn. Would the queen be upset that Mirri was with Lilian? Or would it just be another case of people treating succubi more like things than people? Would she simply not care?

The scroll started letting off a pleasant series of chimes. Mirri dropped the book and hurriedly picked it up. In her excitement, she fumbled with the screen and it took her two moments to actually activate the scroll. Like watercolors spilling across the page, Lilian's features quickly took form. She sat inside some sort of study, it looked like. Mirri carefully hung the scroll on its stand and then sat back attentively on the couch.

"Hey, Kitten," Lilian said, with a warm smile. The rest of her face drooped with exhaustion. Mirri knew the look, having seen it on herself often enough. "How are you doing? Are you getting enough food?"

"I feel as if I should ask the same of you," she said. "You look really tired."

"Ah," LIlian smoothed a hand over her hair. "I'm perfectly fine, Kitten. It's just been quite busy."

"Busy?" Mirri asked anxiously. "Did another rebellion start?"

"Huh? Oh, no, not at all," Lilian reassured. "No. I just had a lot of work to catch up on. The council wishes me to review the training protocol and Sabine's been making plans for dinners and dances to get me caught up, so to speak, in the social arena." Lilian grimaced at that.

"Sabine?" Mirri searched her memory but couldn't remember Lilian ever telling her about a Sabine.

"Ah... the queen of the incubi."

"Your betrothed," Mirri tried not to sound jealous of the queen.

Lilian frowned up at Mirri. "Who told you that?"

"I was reading the modern history book," Mirri said. She showed Lilian the picture of the two of them standing together. "Do you... do you love her? Am I..." She wasn't sure how to phrase the rest of it. How do you ask someone if you were cheating or not? Technically she shouldn't even mention it, right? Mirri wasn't quite sure what to make of the selfish hope that Lilian didn't actually _love_ Sabine. She had to remember that Lilian was a client and a client only.

"I used to love her," Lilian said quietly, sadly. "But she's not the person I thought she knew."

"Would she come after me if she knew?" Mirri asked. "That we were--"

Lilian went silent. Mirri balled her hands up into fists, her nails biting into the skin of her palms. She swallowed as the silence stretched and Lilian's face grew paler with every passing second. The incubus was frozen and her silence held Mirri better than any trap.

"Lilian?" Mirri asked hesitantly. "Am I in danger?"

Lilian inhaled deeply, exhaled carefully. "I'm not sure yet. There's something going on here that I need to get to the bottom of. In the meantime... you need to be careful. Don't go back to the hive."

"Why?"

"I don't think you're in danger yet," Lilian said. "Thalassia's isolated enough that no one outside of Allison and the others likely know you exist. But if word got out, you could be in trouble."

"Why?" Mirri demanded. "Because of who I look like?"

"Yes," Lilian said bluntly. Mirri sat back, feeling as if Lilian had punched her. "I-- I don't have time to explain the situation right now, Kitten. But if people knew you existed, they would want to use you for their own ends. Stay on Thalassia."

"What did I do?" Mirri asked. Lilian opened her mouth, then closed it. Something flashed across her eyes and Mirri was reminded of the night they had first met. The churning sensation in Mirri's stomach that had begun with the sight of the queen grew worse.

"That is a story better told in person," Lilian said finally. She was twitching slightly.

"I might be in danger now," Mirri pushed back. "It's something I should know!"

" _Kitten, be patient!_ " Lilian snapped.

Mirri found herself on the other end of the couch, her heart pounding and ears roaring before she even knew she'd moved. She knew that Lilian was on the other side of an entire dimension, but she couldn't convince the rest of her body to understand that. It was sure the blow was ready to fall, the friendly act was gone now. Lilian's expression shifted from anger to regret in an instant.

"Kitten-- shit. I'm sorry Kitten. I shouldn't have yelled at you, I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"I'm okay," Mirri managed to get out. "It's fine."

"No it's not," Lilian sighed and pressed her hand against the side of her face. "No, it's not okay. I shouldn't have yelled. You do have a right to know, but this isn't something I can explain over a call. It-- It's the kind of thing that can only be told in person. Please... please be patient with me, okay?"

"Okay," Mirri wasn't sure she could convince her heart of that fact. "I'll be careful. Promise."

Someone knocked on a door on Lilian's side. Lilian turned around slightly. "Excuse me, Kitten." Then she turned and walked out of the frame.

Mirri heard the muffled remnants of some sort of conversation. She couldn't make out anything clear enough to actually understand the situation. Lilian sighed and turned back to Mirri. She looked as if she carried the weight of thousands of years on her shoulders.

"Kitten, I have to go," Lilian said. "I'm sorry. There's some sort of emergency."

"It's okay," Mirri said. "I get it."

"You're okay?" Lilian asked anxiously.

"I'm fine," Mirri said. "Go fix the emergency." She tried to smile but it felt miserable. "We can finish talking later."

Lilian didn't look entirely convinced, but the person spoke again with more urgency. Before Lilian could answer, Mirri swiped her fingers across the screen and ended the call. The scroll went blank, the colors fading from the pale silk almost instantly.

As soon as Lilian vanished from sight, Mirri curled up in a tiny ball and tried to convince herself that Lilian wouldn't actually hurt her. Lilian was nice. Lilian was the nicest client Mirri had ever had and that was saying something. She wouldn't actually hurt Mirri. She'd _promised_ she wouldn't hurt Mirri. Surely Lilian wouldn't break that promise.

Wouldn't she?

* * *

Some time later, Mirri picked up the history book again and began to carefully comb through it for references to a succubus that looked like her. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for, but surely she was in the right time period. Surely she would know what she was looking for when she saw it. The words twisted themselves in her brain, incomprehensible sentences and turns of phrase. A few pages down, there was a detailed list of betrothal gifts that the queen had lavished upon Lilian. Jewels, weapons, armour, vast tracks of land for her house and kin. A wealth for the queen's lover.

A single succubus.

The book noted the succubus's relative age, her settled gender and class, and training. She had been an exorbitantly expensive gift on the queen's part and was a mark of the queen's utter favor. There was a picture as well, a sketch in the margins of the page. The caption noted that the sketch had been taken from the succubus catalogue of the highest of training pavilions near the time of the succubus's sale.

Mirri knew she'd been looking for someone similar to herself, but she hadn't expected her carbon copy to be staring up at her from the page. Because it was her, from the curl of hair to the shape of her eyes and the color of her wings and tail. Her hands shook slightly as she continued on. There were no further references to the pet-- to herself-- for almost a chapter.

Anxiously she kept turning pages. But there were pages and pages and nothing at all seemed to be wrong. Mirri found herself desperately searching for any sign that Lilian could be cruel. She didn't find any. Part of her relaxed and tried to convince the rest of her that nothing meant that there was nothing to find. Whatever had gone down, Lilian was innocent in it all.

Mirri wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe that Lilian was kind and gentle and everything she'd shown to Mirri. That and only that. 

But she was glued to the book and she couldn't tear her eyes away.

There. There had been a rebellion and Lilian had taken the queen's gift with her to the battlefields at the queen's urging.

There, there had been an ambush, a terrible fight. So many demons had died in that fight and the rebels had targeted the support group. Lilian had sent her gift back to the palace. It was a side note, an after-thought to the rest of the battle's description.

There-- an assassination attempt on the queen and the pet was at the center of it. She'd attempted to poison the queen during sex. No one knew why.

Mirri turned the page. The pet had been captured. The general, returning victorious from battle, questioned the pet for the queen's sake. Despite extensive interrogation, the pet refused to name any co-conspirators and was eventually executed publicly by the general. The author applauded the general on her techniques and skill. There was a list of the methods used. A long list, with detailed description of each method. Mirri's heart was pounding in her chest. _Close the book. Look away. It's not her, it's not her, it's not her_.

She kept reading.

There was an illustration of the execution. And all Mirri saw was Lilian, her arms bathed in blood up to the elbow. A bloody, triumphant general, taking care of a threat to her queen. Loyal beyond anything else.

 _It's not her, it's not her, it's not her._ The desperate wish echoed through her head. But it was her, it _was_ Lilian. Her heart pounded faster and faster with each desperate cry. _It can't be her_.

But it is her.

 _But it can't be_.

But it is.

The book slipped from her limp fingers. She jumped when it hit the floor with a thud and barely held in a scream. It was as if the movement had broken free of some barrier. Mirri had a bag packed full of clothes and money before she really knew what she was doing. She couldn't breathe. She wanted to scream or cry or both. All she knew was that she had to get out. It was the sound of her pulse, a beat, her deepest instincts and it quickly drowned out the cry of ' _It can't be'_. Out. Out. Out. Danger. Danger. Danger. A clock ticking the time to her death. Her wishes were useless, they'd always been useless. Instinct told her to _Get out_ , and instinct had always saved her.

She should have known better than to trust Lilian. Should have known better than to get attached to a client, to get comfortable. She should have known _better_.

Where could she even go? Rain beat on her umbrella as she stepped outside of apartment complex, blind to the rest of the world. She barely heard the doorman's compliments and wish to have an excellent evening. A hover dropped off a couple of people and she waved for it to wait as she hurried over.

"Where to, Miss?" the driver asked. Anywhere that's not here, she thought. She hadn't been thinking of a destination. She still wasn't.

After a moment, she managed to find her voice and said the first thing that came to mind. "The entertainment circles please."

There were inns there, and casinos and other places where she would be one person out of hundreds and easily forgotten. It would give her breathing room. And then-- and then she could decide where to go from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone?
> 
> *ducks behind a couch* Please don't kill me.


	17. Twelve - Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri tries to keep from panicking. Lilian starts to investigate and gets help.

There was a drainpipe beneath the entertainment circles. Well, there were many drainpipes but this particular one Mirri thought of as hers. It was the one she had used almost eight decades ago to escape the man she'd used to escape the orphanage. Over the years, the broken bit of pipe that she'd taken refuge in had accumulated emergency supplies-- clothes, money, everything she might need if she needed to hide. There were a few sketchbooks too, clumsy drawings scrawled on bits of spare paper. She'd imagined herself as an artist once, and then realized how much talent she lacked. There were even a few books she'd stolen, simple ones meant for children with beautiful pictures inside. She'd forgotten about those.

It wasn't much but it was better than nothing. A sheet of curved metal could be pushed so that it concealed the entrance, while a narrow crack in the wall lead to a crawl space where she could hide if someone did manage to find her. The floor was covered in old sheets that could be easily shaken out, while another sheet decorated with a pleasing display of pastel flowers covered the crack in the wall. Boxes on the floor held her emergency clothes. Mirri unburied a pile of credits from a loose piece of stone and added the worn paper to her supply of crisp credits. An old battery-operated lantern provided dim, comfortable light. Mirri switched it on as she began to unpack her clothes.

Mirri had tried to get an inn. But there had been too many people there, and she wasn't sure if any had followed her there. Had Lilian set watchers on her, in case she tried to get away? Were the people there meant to take her and return her to the apartment-- or worse, some other location where Mirri could never escape from? The thoughts had spiraled through her head, preventing her from resting. She'd stayed for less than an hour. She'd tried again with a hotel, and then one of her past refuges in an old attic. But none of them had felt safe. There had always been a lingering feeling of someone following her.

She'd run again and this time straight to her pipe. No one had followed her there, buried in the depths of the city's skeleton. It was safe, secure.

The pipe had stopped being used as an actual drain years ago. It was dry, far enough from the sea that water didn't get this far in. It was wrapped up in elements that conducted heat and energy to the rest of the city from the nuclear stations below the sea level too, which meant that it was also comfortably warm. There was a layer of dust over everything but that was easily cleaned out with a quick shake of the sheet on the ground. Cleaning soothed her, as did setting the sanctuary to rights. Anything that meant she didn't have to think about Lilian.

Her new clothes and backpack were a jarring contrast to the worn clothes and fabric she kept in the sanctuary. The colors were too clean, too bright, too bold even though they were restrained. She spread her hands across a soft silk blouse and fingered the beaded design on the shoulders and sleeves. Already her previous life felt so far away. Putting on her older clothes felt embarrassing, but it would be necessary to blend in on occasion.

She was safe here. No one had ever managed to find this spot. It was quiet, it was forgotten, ignored by the rest of society. The other homeless members of society, the criminals that needed to hide-- they all inhabited other places in the pipes, farther away from the heat conducted by these. Or maybe they just couldn't stand the heat. It was comfortable for Mirri, but demons bathed in molten sulfur after all.

Lilian would never find her here. She wouldn't even know where to look.

 _You're being stupid_ , part of her said. _You promised to be patient and let her explain_. _So follow through on the promise._

 _I'm not going to let her hurt me._ Mirri had learned a long time ago that promises were cheap and easily broken. The orphanage had promised that she wouldn't have to work very hard to repay them for raising her. All she had to do was lie on a bed for a few hours and let the kind men do what they wanted. (And they had never been kind. And maybe all she had to do was lie there, but she paid in tears and blood, and a raw body that never seemed to heal.) The man who helped her escape from the orphanage had promised to give her the world. (He had locked her up in his basement and she didn't know how long it was before she saw the sun again. Time had lost its meaning for her).

Promises were lures that people used to get her to let down her guard. They were never kept. It was always better to run before she got hurt.

 _Lilian's different_ , the annoying part of her head persisted. It was the annoying optimistic side, the side of Mirri that was always _hoping_ , no matter how much it hurt in the end. _She'll keep her promises to me. I know it. She's nice. She wouldn't_.

So? They always start off nice. And then they always hurt her. The nicer they were, the more pain they dealt in the end. And this time she had _proof_ that Lilian could be cruel. Not to people in general, but to Mirri specifically. Why was she even _considering_ going back?

Mirri's fingers dug into the stiff fabric of the backpack. _Stop thinking_. 

She started taking a tally of everything she had. As far as funds went, she was good to go for awhile. There were nearly ten thousand credits, from Lilian's various and sometimes absurd reasons to give Mirri money. She could get a ticket off planet. She could get a ticket anywhere. A ticket anywhere sounded good right now. Maybe she could go to a world where there was no one there but her. As pleasing as that thought was, some part of her brain instantly added Lilian into the picture and when Mirri ripped Lilian out, it left a gaping hole that collapsed the dream entirely.

Or maybe she could accept Chrissy's invitation. No one said she had to _attend_ the party. She could wait and watch outside the bar and tail Chrissy back to her place. Then they could talk on equal grounds. Sure, she hadn't met Chrissy for a long time, but she at least knew where she stood, relatively speaking, with the other woman.

Lilian-- Mirri wasn't sure what to think anymore. She was trying not to think about Lilian, honestly, but her brain kept cycling back to the incubus. She remembered Lilian's smiles, her gentle touch, her tender kisses. The only person who had tried to _give_ Mirri pleasure, rather than take it. The only person to look at Mirri like she was _worth_ something and treat her like she was priceless--

And--

 _Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking_. Mirri's eyes burned with hot tears. Her hands shook as she found a small box of colorful chalk. She remembered stealing it from the store with an intention of cheering up the grey walls. It left brightly colored dust on her fingers as she packed the box away.

 _She's a better choice than Chrissy_ , her brain insisted rudely, breaking the no-thinking rule that Mirri was trying to instill. _Chrissy just wants to use you, even if she doesn't want to hurt you._

Mirri wasn't going to argue that point against herself. Instead she argued back: _Lilian wants to use me too._

 _You're just panicking_ , her brain told her. _Stop being paranoid._

Okay, maybe she was panicking, but had her instincts ever told her wrong? She'd always run when they said to run and it had saved her life every single time, hadn't it? And her instincts told her to run now, run far, far away from Lilian where Lilian couldn't possibly hurt her anymore. They told her to run and keep running until there was no one around her at all. And so what if she was being paranoid? When had trusting someone ever paid off?

Except the thought of never seeing Lilian again hurt too. Her heart _ached._ Mirri didn't want to leave Lilian and that simple desire left her more scared than anything else. It meant that Lilian had done something to her, somehow, to make her want to always have Lilian by her side. It meant that Lilian had cast some sort of spell and Mirri couldn't even trust herself.

 _I could just let her explain_ , Mirri thought and she would be lying if that thought wasn't tempting. _Let her explain. Maybe she had a good reason._

 _I didn't let him explain why he was hurting me!_ The rest of her screamed and Mirri's throat closed up as memores flashed through her head. Despite the safety of her drainpipe, she glanced anxiously at the sheet beside the door as if someone from her nightmares would knock it down any second and violate her sanctuary. _I didn't let any of them explain. I just ran and I was right to run and I'm right now! Stop defending her!_

She felt exhausted, but sheer anxiety prevented her from sleeping. The room was warm enough, but she'd gotten spoiled by sleeping in a real bed. The floor was too hard and the blankets smelled of dust and dirt. She just wanted to go back to Lilian's apartment where it was warm and bright and clean and-- And she couldn't. She couldn't go back. She never went back. How could she? If Lilian could kill her once, she could kill again. If Lilian could torture and murder and then come back with a smile... How could she go back? How could she trust that Lilian wouldn't ever do that again?

Except she remembered the way that Lilian had sobbed the first time they'd been together, before their promise and arrangement. She remembered the way that Lilian had sworn to never hurt her, the way that the universe had seemed to listen to it. She remembered Lilian sobbing even as she made love to someone else in her memories. It must have been Mirri's previous incarnation. She'd seemed so regretful.

Maybe Lilian wasn't that bad? Could she take that risk? Did she _dare_ to take that risk?

She couldn't breathe now, her chest was so tight.

Mirri wrapped her arms around her knees, her heart a painful hum in her chest. Her thoughts and emotions chased each other in circles. She couldn't untangle them, could do nothing but sit and try to weather the storm.

 _She hasn't hurt me. She promised not to_.

_That wasn't what she promised. She promised not to leave me alone and hurt. Not that she wouldn't hurt me._

_You're not being rational._

_I'm being perfectly rational._

_You're not thinking straight. She hasn't given you a reason not to trust her._

_I don't need a reason! People always hurt me!_ Mirri couldn't tell if the voice inside her head was logical or simply the part of her that didn't want what the book had said to be true. What could she do? What should she do? Part of her wanted to ask Allison, but Allison was Lilian's friend. Surely she would stand by Lilian and defend the incubus. She'd want Mirri to go back and listen to Lilian. And maybe that would be okay. But maybe it wouldn't be. What if Lilian was angry that Mirri ran and tried to make her regret it? Oh sure, she didn't _think_ Lilian would, but she hadn't thought she'd get locked up in a basement either!

What was safe? The ground had revealed itself to be made of the thinnest of ice. If she took a step, she'd plunge into the water and drown.

She wanted to trust Lilian. She wanted to trust that the incubus wouldn't ever hurt her. She wanted it so much that knowing that everyone hurt her in the end felt like a physical blow. Sure Lilian hadn't done anything yet but-- Well, she hadn't done anything yet. But-- well, there was still the _yet._ It was a giant shadow looming in Mirri's mind.

 _I promised to be patient, didn't I?_ Mirri reasoned out. _I can give her a chance._

But if she got too close, well, that would be the end of Mirri if Lilian wasn't as nice as she seemed, wouldn't it?

Maybe there was a way to safely have that discussion? Surely Lilian couldn't do anything if it was a conversation in a public spot. Or maybe Mirri could just demand that they have the discussion over a scroll? Would that be safe enough? Would Lilian even agree? Would it be revealing too much of Mirri's mistrust? Was there a way that Mirri could get everything she wanted or was that just a hopeless dream? They were adults, weren't they? They could talk things out. Right?

She was still fretting when her exhaustion finally caught up to her and too drained to think anymore she fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

In her dreams, she was suffocating. She was trapped in grey stone underneath miles of earth. There wasn't enough room for her to lay down or stand up or to move. Cold rock pressed on each side and the tiny space was slowly filling with water from a tiny crack in one wall. She pressed her fingers against it, but the water trickled over her fingers and the crack was growing wider. She pounded on the ground above her head, screaming.

And then suddenly the rock ceiling had turned to rough-hewn wood. Splinters stuck under her skin. The wood split along a tiny fault, a small victory. The water smelled foul, closer to sewage than water. She cried out again, still beating on the wood ceiling. The split in the wood spread, letting in dim light. Someone yelled, incomprehensible noise. The wood was yanked off and she was suddenly in a shallow pit, full of brackish fluid. The air reeked of metal. Bodies pressed down on her, hot and wet.

Blood. She was covered in blood.

She scrambled to her feet as the world heaved around her. It was a hellish landscape, blue fire burning above pools of molten rock. The mountains in the distance looked as if they were melting under the heat. In a valley, things scuttled around like a swarm of beetles on the ground. Not beetles. Fighters, incubi and succubi and demons she had no name for, dressed in armor. Tents and bodies were trampled underfoot, smoke filled the air and stung her eyes. A shimmering dust covered the area. She breathed in the dead.

Someone grabbed the back of her hair. She screamed in pain as she was thrown to the ground again. There was a fighter standing over her now, tentacles armored. She fought, trying to bite and kick as her body sunk into half-molten ground.

The world shifted around her again. She was pinned against a mildew-covered wall. Wings half-spread, she offered no resistance as officials yanked at her clothes. They hissed words in her ear, but she couldn't hear them. She looked over her shoulder and there was a figure in the alleyway. The sight of tentacles was a relief. Her mouth shaped a name, but nothing escaped.

And suddenly she was back in hell. There was another hard surface, a floor this time, another group of people more powerful than she was. Their faces were blurred. She only felt their hands, grabbing and taking and demanding. And then they were gone and she scrambled to find safety in a woman's arms as tentacles wrapped securely around her body. Fingers stroked her face. She looked up at the incubus with a smile.

The features were melting, the world was changing again. Mirri stared at Lilian through an iron grate. There was another incubus standing beside Lilian, hands resting on Lilian's shoulders, tentacles coiled around Lilian's own as Lilian's tears turned into a saltwater flood that spread across the floor. Mirri reached out for Lilian, or maybe to scream at the other incubus, she didn't know. Her world was on fire now, burning, everything was burning around her as she disintegrated. Lilian reached out to Mirri, but she was falling away. No, Mirri was the one falling. Falling, falling, falling--

White. Everything was white.

_\--An obstacle -- Must be removed-- We're losing this war-- Drastic measures_

Figures moved through a soft mist. They were little more than shadows, large and small, passing in front of a diffuse source of light that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Echoes of voices sounded softly around Mirri. She rubbed her shoulders, her wings fluttering uncertainly by her side.

"You need to kill her."

Mirri whirled around at the sound of a clear voice and backed up. Her back hit a mirror and she jumped, turning again. The mist had parted, revealing a smooth pane of glass. Everything in the glass burned like a star, including her reflection. She was dressed in a transparent robe and nothing else. Flowers were woven into her hair.

"You need to kill her," her reflection repeated, "She has to die."

Mirri backed away again and hit glass again. The mist cleared further. She was trapped in a box of mirrors, trapped with a thousand reflections.

"She must die. She has to die," the voices called as one, pounding on Mirri's head. Mirri covered her ears. They were no longer reflections. They were people, flashes of people. Incubi, humans, succubi. All of them repeating the same thing as her reflection stared at her with wild eyes. Her reflection slammed a clenched fist against the glass, and cracks spread from the force. Mirri blinked and suddenly she was the reflection, staring out into a rich room. She scrabbled against the glass as another figure stepped forward, resting their hands on her reflection's shoulders, tilting her head up gently. Mirri couldn't see clearly. She could see the tentacles coiling around her reflection, drawing her into the shadows.

The reflections in the mirror grabbed Mirri, yanking her back. The words were recited like a chant. "She has to die. She has to die." Mirri was drowning under bodies now. She screamed, fighting them off and suddenly they were behind glass again but their words echoed loudly in Mirri's ears.

A high-pitched scream and the mirrors splintered into a thousand knives of jagged glass as something slammed into it. " _WHY ME?!"_

* * *

Mirri's reasonable, Lilian told herself as she checked the messages on her scroll.

There was nothing new from Mirri, despite Lilian attempting to restore some sense of normal by sharing little architecture details and fashion choices with her. It was a half-hearted attempt on Lilian's part, and had grown less and less optimistic the longer that Mirri's silence stretched. Lilian didn't exactly blame Mirri for not wanting to focus on the trivial things when they had... well... _that_ conversation looming on the horizon. Lilian still wasn't exactly sure what she was going to say or how she was going to explain things. She just knew that she couldn't do it over a scroll-call. And maybe that was some form of cowardice or selfishness, but Lilian didn't know what else to do.

But surely Mirri wouldn't do anything reckless. She'd be patient, let Lilian explain explain. What she did afterward... well, that was a risk that Lilian had taken when she'd decided to invent a relationship. She'd just have to accept whatever Mirri did and-- and get over it if Mirri decided to reject her for what she'd done in the past.

Truthfully, if their places were switched, Lilian wasn't sure she'd be able to forgive her previous killer. Especially if the previous killer had been in the wrong from the start. 'Following orders' was such a pitiful reason for unnecessary cruelty. No, it was less than a reason-- it was an _excuse_. It was an excuse to be cruel and petty and Lilian was disgusted that she'd thought that it was decent justification for anything.

But she didn't have any other reason to offer Mirri. Explaining further would just illustrate how... how pathetic she'd been. She could have told the queen no, could have ensured a clean death. Instead she'd failed. Failed as her kitten's mistress, failed as a decent person, just... failed. Lilian had no excuse. And now her kitten was ignoring her and Lilian had no idea if Mirri had just enough memories to figure out what had gone down or if she'd found out some other way. Her kitten was resourceful enough (and her history book was a _modern_ history, wasn't it? Oh Archdemons, what if she read it in a _book_ of all things?). Lilian would prefer telling her kitten over a call than her kitten finding out what had gone down on her own.

Or maybe something had just gone plain wrong. What if her kitten had gotten swept up in some sort of raid while she was trying to eat? Lilian was trying not to hover. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to limit herself to just texting twice a day and not outright spam Mirri's inbox with demands to know how she was doing until the succubus answered.

Maybe she should ask Allison to keep an eye on Mirri, reach out from time to time. She could trust the other succubus to look out for Mirri's interests and get her to the safety of a community if necessary. It would hurt to have Mirri out of reach, but at least she'd be somewhere safe. The chances of her getting hunted down by other succubi, particularly those in a community, were low.

Lilian fumbled with the buttons on her formal dress uniform. It was such dark blue it might as well have been black and liberally draped with gold chains and braiding. Diamonds and rubies flashed from medals on her left breast and from the hilt of her fancy ceremonial sword. Her engagement broach at the base of her throat was one giant amethyst, surrounded by rubies and sapphires caught up in swirls of gold and silver that made up the setting. It had been a long time since she'd had to wear clothes this fancy and even when she did have to wear them on a semi-regular basis, she'd never quite mastered the art of quickly dressing up. The buttons were too fiddly, the broach was pinned at an angle, rather than perfectly straight.

"Let me," Errolr said impatiently.

Lilian huffed, but let him fix her jacket buttons and the broach. She still wasn't quite sure where they stood-- she wasn't sure _he_ knew where they stood-- but whatever it was, they had at least figured out that it wasn't romantic. The emotions weren't there. Not on her end and probably not on his either. She was pretty sure he was still trying to figure out what was him and what was simply arising from his memories.

But she did appreciate his presence as a friend and the closest thing to an ally she had in the court. Sabine was... well, she was Sabine. Honestly, Lilian wasn't entirely sure they were on the same side anymore. So many things had changed since her kitten's death. _Lilian_ had changed and Sabine had stayed the same. Did they want the same things for the kingdom? They certainly weren't on the same page in terms of their relationship. Sabine just expected things to be the way they were before. Maybe she needed things to be the same.

"Thank you," she said to Errolr. He blinked, as if surprised by her manners. Lilian tried not to be annoyed at Sabine. Most incubi never used manners around their succubi. It wasn't necessary, exactly.

There was a brief hesitation then, "Don't mention it, sir."

He walked over to the vanity and picked up the large mirror, angling it so that she could inspect herself. Lilian smoothed down the dress uniform. It didn't fit perfectly, she'd gotten soft and now it was tight in places it hadn't been before. She looked adequate enough. Lilian would never be a great beauty of the incubi. She was fine with that.

"My love!" Sabine trilled as she slipped in through the garden entrance without waiting for invitation. Lilian glanced over. The queen was dressed richly in a heart-stopping black gown encrusted with glinting gemstones-- jet, black diamond, onyx, and the darkest of rubies, sapphires, and amethysts. It had to weigh half as much as the queen, but Sabine didn't seem to notice the weight as she swirled around the bed. Her skirts flared with every turn, glamourous and eye-catching. All attention would be on her as usual. Lilian was glad. it meant she could fade in to the background. "Aren't you finished dressing yet?"

Errolr stepped back and kneeled, mirror still in his hands. Lilian bowed her head respectfully as Sabine picked up her hands and kissed the knuckles. She went in for a proper kiss next, wrapping her arms around Lilian's waist. Lilian kissed back, the queen's fierce kiss familiar and welcome despite the awkward feelings it stirred in Lilian. Part of Lilian of her missing the easy relationship that had been lost all those years ago. Sabine deepened the kiss further and Lilian pulled away.

"Stop it, you'll mess up your makeup," Lilian scolded.

Sabine smiled up at her. "If I do, you'd help me fix it."

Lilian smiled back, only for it to fall away the minute Sabine's attention had diverted to Errolr.

The succubus set the mirror back on its stand carefully and then stood near a wall. His hands were clasped in front of him, his head bowed. She was frowning at him, although Lilian couldn't imagine why. Sure he wasn't on her kitten's level (Lilian doubted anyone would ever be), but he was more than adequate.

"You're not dressed," she said, then glanced at Lilian. "Have you been distracting him, love?"

"I may have borrowed his time," Lilian admitted. "Still can't fasten the buttons myself."

Sabine clicked her tongue as she inspected him. Errolr stood a bit straighter for Sabine as she circled around him. He was 'dressed' in his normal outfit of translucent silk pants and palace collar. It was a simple outfit, perfect for daily activity. Maybe that was what Sabine was scowling at. Did she actually intend to bring him out and force him to watch the executions? Lilian's stomach twisted.

"This won't do. We'll be the laughingstock of the kingdom if he goes to the feast looking like a normal server." She glanced at Lilian slyly. "He should be dressed appropriately. Help me pick out something nice?"

Oh, she was interested in his feast outfit. The feast itself was after the executions, but it was hours away, more than enough time for Errolr to change into a proper outfit. This was just an excuse to see him strip. Lilian was less than interested in seeing him naked, and even if she had been interested, she had better things to do with her time right now.

"Perhaps some other day, Sabine. I need to talk to Major Azira before the ceremony."

"Ah, then I won't keep you any longer," Sabine pressed a kiss to Lilian's cheek. "Hurry back, my heart. The ceremony begins soon."

"Of course, my queen," Lilian promised and returned the kiss. The thought of the executions made her feel ill, but she disguised her uncertainty by flashing a smile. She adjusted her uniform one last time and slid her dull ceremonial saber into the equally ceremonial scabbard. With one last half-bow to Sabine, she slipped out of her bedroom and hurried down the corridors of the palace to the barracks where officers stayed when they visited to the palace. She passed clusters of nobles as she walked as quickly as possible through the hallways. The hiss of gossip followed behind her. The High General and the queen's betrothed, returned after so very long. What a story. What news.

The officer quarters were a good deal fancier than the barracks of common soldiers. They were large private rooms, something akin to something seen in a fancy hotel minus the personal bathroom. The rooms of the nobility were closer to fancy hotel suites, complete with multiple rooms. What the nobles did with all the space, Lilian didn't really know. She barely used her bedroom, much less the other rooms that she was allowed. There was another advantage of the officer quarters and that was that they were close to the Map Room, used for planning campaigns and strategy. They were also close to the fabulous royal archives, which was Lilian's second destination.

She'd taken Mirri as her once-in-a-lifetime miracle. But now with Errolr in the mix-- there was no way that Mirri was a coincidence, a stroke of luck and fate. _Someone_ had been trying to bring back her kitten and Lilian wanted to know _who_ and _why_.

Azira had been Lilian's closest friend throughout what passed as childhood for a demon. Incubi were tossed into roles depending on where they hatched. Lilian and Azira had hatched on the soldier's hatching grounds at the same time and had been trained since their hatching to fight. It hadn't exactly been love at first sight-- they'd been rivals more often than not. They'd progressed through the ranks together and they hadn't really been friends until the first rebellion that Lilian had fought in. Only then did they earn the other's respect and become friends. They'd stuck together until finally Lilian had surpassed Azira and made the jump to General, and then High General of all the incubi forces. She was still close to Azira though, and if there was an incubus in the palace she could trust to keep her mouth shut, it was Azira. Lilian would have to take care though. Azira was fanatically loyal to the queen and stirring her up too much might put Mirri or Errolr in danger.

Soldiers saluted Lilian as she rushed by. A quick question about Azira's location put her somewhere between her study near the Map Room and her private room in the officer quarters. Lilian thanked them and changed directions. It was hard not to run, particularly as her search for Azira took longer and longer. Running was theoretically undignified for the future Princess-Consort, much less the High General. Even so, a brisk walk felt far too slow.

Lilian passed by several training courtyards. Normally they held sparring soldiers, but now they held rank after rank of warriors, dressed neatly in their formal uniforms and weapons. They would keep control of the crowds as the executions went on. In another courtyard, several succubi prisoners looked down dejectedly at their chains as they were hemmed in on all sides by palace guards. Executioners dressed in deep red uniforms stood nearby. All of them were officers due a promotion and the execution would be their declaration of loyalty to the queen and crown.

Soldiers continued to salute Lilian as she moved past them. She was deep into the officer quarters now. Here, there were captains, commanders, majors, and lesser generals. Like the common soldiers, they offered Lilian salutes as she passed by. She nodded at them, acknowledging them as she forced herself to slow down to a more dignified pace. Lilian checked Azira's office first. The door was closed and locked securely, no luck. Lilian then checked Azira's private room, but it was also locked tight. She sighed as she smoothed a hand across her hair. Where else could Azira be? Maybe the dining hall? Azira did tend to be a nervous eater.

"Do you need something, General?" Azira asked, her voice playful as always.

Lilian turned around. She started off smiling, but it trailed off into a frown. Azira was dressed in red the exact color of human blood. Her curly black hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She was dressed like an executioner. The sword at her side wasn't meant to be ceremonial. It was long and sharp, heavy enough to slice cleanly through the vertebral column and then the neck. Instead of a major's insignia pinned to her collar, she had the insignia of a lesser general.

"Ah, yes," Lilian said. "But I can see you're busy. Congratulations on your promotion."

Azira's voice took on an uncharacteristic gravity, "It is an honor to rid the kingdom of its enemies. I'm just happy to serve."

"Right, serve," Lilian said. There had been a time when she'd felt the same. Now she wondered. But Azira wasn't the person to bring up those emotions to. Lilian wasn't entirely sure that Azira wouldn't report her for outright treason.

"So, what do you need?" Azira asked, lightness returning to her voice. "I take it you don't want to accept my offer to elope?"

"What about your husband?" Lilian asked reflexively, although privately she wished she could run away with Azira. There had been a long time when Lilian had thought about offering a contract to Azira when they had both earned their way out of the force and neither would be under the direction of the other. Then, of course, she'd been made general and now she was the queen's betrothed. Marriage contracts were out of the question.

"I was thinking about getting a new one," Azira glanced meaningfully in Lilian's direction. Her tentacles rolled like waves on the ocean. Lilian sighed at the obvious invitation to have sex. Technically it would be adultery on both of their accounts and worthy of execution. But Lilian would be a liar if she wasn't at least a little tempted. "I mean Isabelle has all but set a price on _her_ husband's head and frankly it's time for a change. Mine's gotten trying to hold the household over me."

"Isabelle wants to get a divorce?" Lilian asked, frowning. She and her husband had always seemed so close. Bu what did Lilian know? She was several hundred years behind the latest gossip. Then she shook her head slightly.

"Oh, right, you haven't heard. I'm not very surprised. He's got the political skills of a rock and she's looking to push her way higher up," Azira said. "It was a bad match from the start but, eh, he's got a pretty face."

"I wouldn't know." Lilian checked the clock hanging on the wall. It was a fancy clock, something Azira had always been partial to. Delicate porcelain fairies with enamel wings fluttered around its face. There were only a few minutes before they had to both leave for the execution. At least this one wouldn't be as vicious. Azira looked at it as well and her playful expression vanished. Lilian wondered what was on her mind.

"Anyway, you didn't come here to catch up on gossip," Azira said after a moment.

"No, I need your help with something. Do you know about Errolr?" Lilian asked. Azira was in charge of palace security. She would know about the queen's succubi, if not by their names, then certainly by their numbers. She'd also know where they came from, which was the information that Lilian actually wanted.

"The queen's new succubus?" Azira made a face. "Seems a bit bland for a succubus to the queen. He's from a second-rate breeder too, in my honest opinion. Why? Something wrong with him?"

Lilian beckoned to Azira, stepping into Azira's room. The door was left open, no need to start a rumor, but a quick ward ensured that there would be no eavesdroppers. "He has my kitten's memories."

"Isn't that a good thing though?" Azira straightened up, eyes keen. "He might tell us why--"

"We're not questioning _another_ innocent succubus," Lilian snapped out at Azira, and the other woman's words trailed off. She shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. Lilian took deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Besides, he doesn't have all of her memories, just most of them. He's probably missing the ones we need."

And wasn't that just another _coincidence_?

"She tried to poison _the queen_ , Lili. Try not to show too much sympathy for the traitor." Azira glanced at the open door pointedly. Lilian snorted at that, but didn't argue against Azira's words. Sabine hadn't executed Lilian for mourning her kitten-- but she could have. It was a warning to be careful. There were a lot of incubi who desired Lilian's position, so close to the throne. "And if you're worried so much about him, then just deal with him yourself--"

"I'm not worried about _him,_ Azira. I just don't think it was pure chance that he exists. I think someone wanted to recreate my kitten and I want to know who and why." Lilian took another deep breath, trying for calm. 

"What? What makes you think that?" Azira asked.

"Memories are the first thing to vanish and never come back. So why does he have them-- and only them-- and nothing else from my kitten? Not her personality, not her appearance, not even her gender?" Lilian danced around the topic of Mirri. Thankfully it was enough. Azira was nodding her head ever so slightly.

"Do you think there's another succubus out there?" she asked. "A better copy?"

"No," Lilian said, doing her best to make the rejection sound thoughtful and not panicked. She had nothing to hide-- except for Mirri. "Or they would have used that one and sent them to the palace. All they must have had was Errolr."

Azira nodded again. "Yes, that makes sense. Where do you want to start?"

"At the beginning," Lilian said. "We'll start with Errolr's background and work our way from there." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!


	18. Thirteen - Deals and Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri follows Chrissy and finds more than she expected.

Hunger eventually drove Mirri out of her sanctuary.

The gnawing edge of it had crept into her anxiety, making her endless spiral of thoughts about Lilian even less productive than it had before. An ache in her wings grew into a nightmare as the oversensitive membranes began to pick up every trace of energy in what felt like the entire city.

She had scribbled countless arguments on the wall of her drainpipe with the chalk, trying to focus her thoughts as she ignored her wings. Some were for, most arguments were against. Her one attempt at logic had failed miserably and lay under a layer of cheerfully pink chalk. Simply put, Mirri didn't know enough about Lilian and the only way to find out more was to ask Lilian herself. That in itself was an argument to go back, rather than run forever.

She could tamely go back to Lilian, as a demonstration of trust. It could get Lilian to lower her defenses to make it easier to run in the future. That's what she'd done the first time, when the man had locked her in the basement. It's what she'd done with the orphanage. It wasn't her best plan, admittedly. But she didn't exactly have a better one. But part of Mirri needed to know.

Her brain dragged out memories of sex with Lilian. More and more of her arguments began to orbit around food. Lilian was, after all, a twelve-course buffet in comparison to every other human she'd been with. And she definitely didn't make eating a chore. Mirri licked her lips at the memory of Lilian's touch and kisses, confident but always focused on Mirri's pleasure. Heat swirled through her body as Mirri remembered Lilian's tentacles. Some ancient part of her remembered what it was like to be pleasured by them and ghost sensations skated across her skin.

Her wings ached even more, reminding Mirri that it had been days since she'd dared to leave her sanctuary. She was brutally aware of how alone she was and how empty the pipes were. There weren't any other souls around, or at least none that were lusting after someone else. She needed to get out and get a meal before she did something stupid in regards to Lilian.

Mirri dressed herself nicely, picking out a pink gown full of transparent layers that fluttered around her thighs and barely hid her rear. She knew how she looked in it, and while it wasn't quite her style, it was comfortable enough and would get the message across to others. She was on the prowl for fun tonight. Mirri pulled on her coat over it, the hem of the coat longer than the hem of the dress. Mirri wondered if perhaps she should try the BDSM scene. Lilian's request for Mirri to do research aside, Mirri wanted to figure out what she liked and wanted. Now that she wasn't so desperate-- well-- she could tell people no, couldn't she?

No I don't want to do this, no I'm not doing that. No. No. No. Amazing how much power a little word could have. At least, when people respected it. But they should respect it. She was a young woman, investigating, dipping her toes into the vast pool of the kink world for the (sort of) first time. Even the abusive ones would handle her with care at first, until she was too deep in their clutches to get out. Mirri didn't intend to get sucked into a permanent relationship though, so she should be safe enough from them.

 _Lilian's probably doing the same_ , her mind whispered to her as she buttoned her coat shut. _Being nice to lure you in, until you're too deep in her tentacles to escape._

 _Shut_ up. Mirri tried to shake the thought out of her head, but it lingered like a foul taste in the back of her mouth.

_Why else would she be so gentle with you now? No one is ever gentle to you unless they have a reason. No one just gives you nice things._

_Shut. Up._

_You don't deserve it and they all know it._

_Shut. Up!_ Mirri forced the thought out of her head.

_Even Lilian's only being nice because she wants to use you. She wants the same thing everyone else does. You on your back with your legs spread wide for her. And you're so stupid you just walk right into the little cage she's made because she--_

_SHUT UP!_ Mirri screamed at the voice in her head.

Her wings, traitors as they were, ached harder at the thought of Lilian. So did Mirri's heart.

Mirri made her way through the system of pipes until she found the section she wanted. She climbed a rusted ladder carefully, and then worked her way through a crumbling section of stone, finally emerging near the bathrooms of a train station. She tasted lust almost instantly as she slipped between groups of people. It was busy for the time of night, crowded with couples and families.

Her back prickled as eyes followed her, heads turning to her as the scent of lust thickened around her. Was she doing that? No one had ever had such a strong reaction to her before. She reached behind her and adjusted a buckle of her harness. Some of the interest died down, but not all of it. Mirri tasted fantasies, hot and wet on her tongue. Some people wanted to pin her down against a subway pole, fucking her into submission with the help of others. Others thought about inviting her back to their place and fretted over lines. Two couples looked at her and considered sharing her with their partner.

Mirri inhaled, exhaled. She tried to calm herself down and succeeded in cooling the intensity of the lust she'd inadvertently stirred up. People glanced away from her and prickling shame built up in their lust when they actually took account of their own thoughts. Oops. Mirri added another reason to the 'Why I should return' list as she paid for a ticket to the entertainment circles: She needed to ask Allison about how to actually use her magic. Maybe there was a way she could weaponize it against Lilian or others if necessary. Or maybe even learn to create wards, the way that Lilian did.

The train ride went smoothly enough, although there was a couple thinking of making out on the train and Mirri bit her lip at how much her wings ached. Two men thought about feeling her up, but she was able to edge away from them before they blocked her off in a corner. The couple drew her attention, like a sweet drop of honey in a trap and her brain invented a way to convince them to include her in their fun.

Stop it, Mirri thought, and moved to a different compartment to get away from them. Had she always been like this? She didn't think so. Last time she'd been hungry, it had been so extreme that she hadn't even been able to think of anything other than the fastest way to get sex. Then again, most of the time she'd been too weak and ill-fed to do anything to other people.

At the entertainment circle, she got out and headed almost directly to the center. She paused by Crescent Bites, wondering if she should go in as she watched people line up at the entrance. Light and music escaped from it, the song haunting. Mirri found herself wandering closer to the entrance, almost at the end of the line. Movement at a side door caught her eye, shadows playing up on the wall of a neighboring building. A moment later, Chrissy left the club and walked down the street. Mirri ducked behind a group of people.

"Yes, yes, of course I'll make the meeting on time, Tristan," Chrissy said. There was a brief pause as she continued to walk past. "Tell him he has to wait just-- yes, I know where she's been hiding-- what do you _mean_ you can't find the spot?-- Well find her! Cam needs you to find her!"

The hair on Mirri's neck stood up as Chrissy ended the call with a huff.

 _What are you up to?_ Mirri wondered. There was a pretty good chance that Chrissy was talking about her, and even if she wasn't-- well, it never hurt to know a bit more about what Chrissy was up to. Her wings ached slightly, but she put the pain out of her head. This was a chance Mirri wasn't exactly going to give up. Carefully, she glanced around the street, and then began to follow Chrissy at a distance, trying not to be obvious about it. Twice, she was forced to duck behind objects or groups of people when Chrissy turned around. But she didn't _think_ that Chrissy spotted her.

Chrissy led her deeper into the circles. This area was wealthier than the previous one. Mirri's coat looked ordinary. She didn't look too out of place, but it was a near thing as she picked a group of people to follow going in the general direction that Chrissy was going in. Mirri cut around a building, continuing to follow the group of people and nearly lost Chrissy entirely in the throng of people. She spotted the woman going into a club that seemed to ripple in and out of Mirri's sight.

Mirri hurried over to it. There was a small line in front, but it didn't look in credibly busy. The sign declared the club's name as Black Magic. It had a purple and red theme-- twilight purples, deep reds like the hearts of roses and blood, black drapes like a storm sky. A sign at the front declared it 'Pets-in-Training' night as she was let into the club. About half of the men and women were naked, or dressed only in leather harnesses. She saw a lot of leashes, collars, several muzzles, and even bridles. Five of them looked like one of Lilian's styles. Mirri smiled proudly before she could stop herself.

_Focus Mirri. Figure out what Chrissy's up to._

This club was centered around a large stage, which was currently empty. Tables were arranged in loose rings, and there were alcoves around the walls where people could have a bit of privacy. It was bigger than Crescent Bites, with a single main lobby and three areas loosely arranged beyond that. The air swam with lust, thick and heady. Leather was a staple, as were dark fabrics-- black and red and purple and blue. Everything had hard edges, even the softness of skin looked as if it would bear an edge. In her soft fur jacket and fluttering pink dress, Mirri stood out like a sore thumb. Well, that couldn't be helped.

There was a bar, but it didn't sell anything hard. Several reminders on the bar counter reminded patrons to stay properly hydrated and that alcohol didn't count. She didn't receive looks when she ordered a glass of water and scanned the mass of people for Chrissy. It was difficult to see anything, and Chrissy's dark clothes blended in perfectly.

There! Chrissy stood beside a small door that Mirri hadn't noticed before and slipped inside. Mirri set her class down and followed, winding her way through the crowd. 

The club rippled around her subtly as she passed through the door. She found herself in a pitch black room that resembled a void more than anything else, stretching endlessly into the distance. Tiny lights sparkled above like a map of stars that Mirri had never seen until she'd taken the shuttle to the moon. Rippling veils of light dictated the boundaries of the space, and the edges of furniture that was otherwise invisible. The people here were strange, dressed in elaborate costumes of sparkling crystals and brilliant colors.

There were humans here too, offering up wrists and necks to the fangs of patrons that they kneeled beside. Red eyes glowed in the darkness.

Vampires!

Vampires-- and fairies. Wings glowed upon the backs of maybe a quarter of the patrons, made of glowing mist spun in delicate lines. They glided around with unearthly grace, their clothes shining like jewels against the darkness of the room. It was dreamy and fantastical. Mirri watched hesitantly as several humans with drugged gazes stretched out on a table, open for use that the fairies freely took advantage of. Bare bodies undulated, damp skin flushed with blood as the humans moaned in bliss.

Mirri swallowed and part of her wished it was her on that table, her wings aching as they reminded her of how hungry she was. She could taste their satisfaction from where she stood, a fullness that was round and soft and her body responded to it. She licked her lips and edged closer, watching as a fairy dissolved into a feral animal, dragging deep cuts into the human beneath them with sharp claws. Blood spilled upon the ground and several vampires joined the frenzy of sex and feeding.

 _Chrissy_ , Mirri reminded herself.

She glanced around the club, searching for a familiar figure. The clocks on the walls all read different times and dates, the humans lost in time as it unraveled around them. Mirri didn't seem affected by it, and whatever was drugging the humans had left her alone for now. She glanced behind her, at the door that let out into the human realm and tried to fix the position in her mind.

She spotted Chrissy slipping through another door. Mirri followed, her feet soft on the ground as the doorway rippled again. She stood in another room, one paneled with pale wood. One wall was a carved lattice panel, and beyond it was another room, much fancier with plaster walls that had been artistically molded and carved. The floor was white tile that resembled marble. The furniture was pale as well, soft greys and ivories embroidered in gold and silver. Men and women reclined in them, while a group of women dressed in flimsy white stood against one wall with downcast eyes. They were all bound and gagged; scales, fur, and feathers growing from their skin. A half-dragon man with deep gold and amber scales stood at one end of the row.

"So kind of you to join us at last, Mistress Christine," a man said. His voice sounded familiar, but Mirri didn't recognize it. She stepped closer to the lattice, in the hope that she could see and hear more.

"I apologize for my tardiness," Chrissy said. She glanced at the bound women. "I see you have gone ahead to the auction without me."

"An unproductive affair," a woman with silver-grey hair waved her hand dismissively. "They are better fit for dog meat and yet they were the cream of the latest crop. Please tell me you are here to tell us you have sound something truly exceptional."

"Yes, tell us what you have found," the man added, his voice taking on a hard edge. "I am paying you quite generously and yet you have produced no results despite months of work."

"You are free to look at my competitors," Chrissy answered blandly, "But I believe you have already tried them and they have failed to bring you what you wish."

The man snorted, but did not refute her statement, Mirri noticed.

"We have located a succubus," Tristan said.

"Is that so?" the man spread his hands, gesturing to the others in the room. "I see no succubus before me. Just you, empty-handed."

"Succubi are known for their timid natures in our world. They are cautious to the point of paranoia, easily startled, and liable to vanish if frightened. Patience is required. Now that we know that she is within the city, it will be a simple enough matter to isolate and capture her." Chrissy stood perfectly straight, ignoring the women behind her. Mirri's heart began to beat in her chest. "She has already separated herself from the main source of her protection and made herself vulnerable. We also know the location of one of her sanctuaries. If she does return to her protection, we have ways of dealing with that. I assure you, your money is not wasted."

Mirri narrowed her eyes. _Ways of dealing with Lilian? How?_

The man grunted, "I require proof of what you say to prove that my trust in you is well-founded."

Chrissy went stiff. "And we require proof that you have kept your word before we give it."

The man waved his hand. A woman in a flimsy hospital gown was rolled in through the door on a wheelchair by a pair of nurses. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, and a large metal collar wrapped tightly around her throat. Someone had shaved her head and there were blinking lights embedded in her skull. Mirri frowned. She felt like she should recognize the woman but she couldn't. The woman's eyes stared blankly forward, unseeing. Mirri shuddered. What had happened to her?

"As you can see, I have kept my end of our bargain so far," the man said. The nurses rolled the woman away.

Chrissy nodded at Tristan. Tristan pulled a portfolio out of his jacket and offered it to the man. The man opened it and held up a picture. Mirri pressed a hand to her mouth. It was one of the private pictures Lilian had taken of Mirri for fun during a photoshoot. It showed Mirri used and messy sprawled across a bed. Her wings and tail were out, half-raised. It was a good picture, one of Mirri's favorites. It was also one of the pictures that Mirri kept in a box beneath her bed.

An ugly knot formed in Mirri's stomach as she watched the man go through the pictures. Her skin crawled and she felt as if she had been dropped in a vat of acid. Chrissy had been in her apartment! This... this was not good, at all. What else did Chrissy know? 

The man went through the others. The woman leaned over, making approving sounds. 

"We have had the pictures verified," Chrissy said. "And I assure you, she is far prettier in person."

The man put the pictures back in the portfolio and handed it to the woman. She opened it up again and stroked the first image. Mirri shuddered as she tasted the woman's lust.

"Very well," the man said. "Continue with your work and be quick about it, I want the succubus before me before the end of the year."

Mirri backed away and slipped back through the door that she had come from. She stepped back into that infinitely dark room, full of vampires and fairies. It was a different area than before, one where fairies danced wildly with human partners that looked halfway to death. Mirri skirted around them, trying desperately to find the door that had led her to the club in the first place. Dare she take a random one?

Chrissy stepped through the door after Mirri, looking annoyed. Mirri ducked behind a fountain made of light, with glowing dust exploding from its impossible arches instead of water. She wasn't quite fast enough. Chrissy frowned and looked back at her and started walking to Mirri. Mirri darted behind a pillar, ducked behind a group of people and stepped into a different area where fairies languidly stroked each other's bare skin, resting between each other's legs. She looked down and saw Chrissy below her somehow. Chrissy looked up and their eyes met.

The thick scent of lust surged around Mirri and held her trapped in place. A fantasy overwhelmed Mirri's senses. It showed her bound, gagged, and blindfolded, utterly helpless to the whims of another. It showed her coated in a mess of fluids, drooling as her limp body shuddered from waves of mindless pleasure. She was surrounded by bodies, not a part of her left unattended for a moment.

She felt eyes burn into her back and whipped around again. The fairy orgy was gone. She couldn't see Chrissy anymore either, the entire room had changed and nothing was in the same spot as before. Instead, there was a group of fairies behind her, all wearing delicate gold and porcelain masks. Intricate details hinted at feathers and fierce eyes. Savage beasts with snarling faces, shining eyes and fragile butterfly wings. Serene birds with jewel-colored feathers. They were male and female, they shifted between genders, they were both genders and neither. They were beautiful and terrible all at once.

"Hello little succubus," one of the fairies said. They were one of the androgynous ones and wore a mask that reminded Mirri of owls. Large, dark eyes stared out of a ghost-pale face framed with a flurry of russet feathers. Beneath the mask, the fairy's lips were deepest red, showing off bright white teeth, a little too sharp to be human. "Would you like to play with us?"

Mirri had never dealt with the fairies, but she'd heard stories. You must be careful, the other prostitutes had whispered amongst themselves. You must always be polite and truthful, for they find lies and rudeness an offense worth killing over. Her heart pounded in her chest. After Chrissy, the last thing she wanted was to play with a group of fairies. But could she decline without offending them? She'd have to step carefully.

Mirri dipped her head nervously as she tried to think of a polite way to ask what they wanted from her. "You honor me with your invitation, noble fairy. May I ask if you desire anything from me in return?"

The fairies twittered amongst themselves, their voices incomprehensible to Mirri. It sounded like the calls of birds and the ringing of bells, the howl of a wolf pack on the hunt. They didn't seem offended at least. Mirri took it as a good sign.

"It has been a very long time since any of us have seen a succubus," Owl said. "We will show you pleasure that you cannot experience from any human and let you feed off of us freely. In exchange, we ask only that you charge a few orbs of grace for us."

Grace? It took Mirri a moment to remember the actual name for the golden energy that sparked from her wings and that other demons could use it to fuel their magic. She wondered why the fairies wanted it, but who knew why the fairies wanted anything? Even to other monsters, they were obscure and difficult to understand. It seemed fair enough though and if she went with them and stayed for a bit, she'd be safe from Chrissy. She should probably set a time limit on their 'playtime' though. Everyone had emphasized that time meant different things to fairies.

"I can play for a single night in the human realm and no more," she said.

"Then I shall make the night last as long as it needs to be for both of us," the fairy said, a delighted smile crossing their face. "Before the day changes on Thalassia, we shall return you safely to the human realm. You have our word."

Mirri thought that particular choice of words was ominous, but she could spend a few days in the fairy realm as long as the same amount of time didn't pass on Thalassia. She nodded to Owl. "Then I would be delighted to play with you."

Owl held out their hand. Mirri accepted it and was drawn into the group of fairies, who closed around her like some sort of personal guard. She hadn't realized how tall they all were and found herself craning her neck to look at them all.

"What may we call you, little succubus?" another fairy asked. He was dressed in deep and shimmering blues, lined and hemmed in black, their mask decorated with butterfly wings. His eyes were multi-faceted, shimmering beneath his mask. "You can call me Mira," Mirri said, vaguely remembering the importance of names amongst the fairies and how one should never give away their proper name.

"You will address us as lords," another fairy said. Mirri couldn't discern their gender at all beneath their loose green robes. They were thin and lean, their mask bearing frills and scales. It reminded her of several lizards she had seen ones, for sale in a dingy store and she decided to name him Lizard.

"I understand," Mirri said. As they walked deeper into the realm, they passed by fantastic rooms-- rooms full of bubbles big enough to hold people (which they often did), rooms made of pure light, of water and ice and fire. There was no rhyme or reason to the layout. Once they took a left turn, backed-tracked, and ended up walking into an entirely different hallway than before. Humans kneeled, some collared elaborately, others completely naked and used as furniture. She saw strange things, fairies that were more plant or animal than anything else.

She was escorted into a room that was made all of glass. Glass walls, glass furniture, sparkling glass curtains that threw the light into her eyes. Frosted glass panes, behind which were mysterious objects. There were no straight lines, everything was curved and round, soft and hard at the same time. There seemed to be no end to the room itself. It stretched on until it faded into a thin haze of silver and white in the far distance. When she looked up, she saw an empty void. The floor below was glass as well, and beneath the glass was an identical void.

"Please sit," Owl said, indicating a round chair beside a table. The fairies twittered amongst themselves again. One of them offered to take Mirri's coat and they hung it upon a strangely normal coat rack. Mirri smoothed her hands down across her dress and wished that she had picked out something longer. She felt naked before them, despite being fully clothed as they turned their attention upon her. None of them blinked, she realized. Not even the ones that looked the most human. "We must discuss your limits and our expectations of you."

Mirri sat down at the table hesitantly. Despite being made of glass, the chair was comfortable enough, curved and molded to best support her weight. She crossed her legs, resting her hands nervously in her lap. "You mentioned that you wanted me to charge something with grace. Orbs?"

"Yes," Owl seemed to be their spokesperson. The fairy gestured and an array of glass orbs appeared before Mirri. They were about the size of her head, perfectly round and hollow. Inside, they were filled with small beads of something. Mirri tapped the orb with a finger and it rang out sweetly like a bell. She peered closer at the beads. They were the size of poppy seeds, perfectly clear and sparkling so brightly they couldn't possibly be just glass. They were suspended in some kind of clear oil as well, one that caught the light brilliantly.

"Is that... glass?" she asked.

"Diamond," Owl said.

Mirri boggled at the fortune in front of her face. "All of it?"

"Of course," Owl sounded confused by her shock. "Diamond is the best conductor of magic and grace is ultimately a form of magic. Each orb holds ten standard charges of grace, or the output of an average orgasm. We need five of these orbs filled. I assure you, it is a feat well within your capability."

Mirri quietly did the math. And then she redid the math to make sure she had done it correctly the first time. "I need to orgasm _fifty_ times to fill all of them? In a single night?"

"Time shall be dilated so that you may complete the task safely," Owl said. "You need not worry about it."

Mirri took a deep breath and nodded her head slightly. So she'd have to spend a few days in the fairy realm. She trusted the fairies to keep their promise and return her with only a single night having passed by. If one thing was always consistent in the stories, it was that the fairies kept their world. Albeit, they were masters of loopholes, but this seemed to be a straight-forward enough exchange. "As long as I am returned on time, that is acceptable."

The fairies relaxed slightly. Mirri wondered if her wings had lead her into more trouble.

"Excellent," Owl said with a slow smile. 


	19. Prompt - Orgasm Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri goes through with the deal she's made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional: Orgy, overstimulation, non-human genitalia, exhibitionism/voyeurism, bondage, gagging, sex machine (technically, I think?)

The fairies continued to negotiate, and it felt as if they took hours or even days. Thankfully, Mirri didn't grow tired or hungry (or rather, more hungry) and it had felt like no time at all had passed before they all stepped away from the table. Her heart was humming slightly in anticipation. She had done BDSM scenes before, of course, but none had ever been approached like this. (And part of her wondered if she should even include the previous attempts since no one in them had thought about Mirri's opinions on anything) She'd always gone into them with a hint of regret, a healthy dose of self-loathing, a heap of anxiety, and a focus on what had to be done to ensure she got paid at the end. The anxiety always went up the more people were involved.

This... maybe this would be good. She hoped so. It helped that the fairies were determined to hash out what felt like every expectation and desire of theirs in advance. She knew what was coming and could just enjoy it.

There were ten fairies, one of the largest groups she'd ever entertained. Three were decidedly female: Petal, who wore a mask of delicate enamel flowers and silk petals; Dragonfly, who had irridescent robes and dragonfly wings; and Vixen, whose mask was like that of a red fox and lined with fur. There were two that were certainly male: blue-dressed Butterfly and Spider. She could only guess at the gender of another two: Lizard and Wolf. Two seemed like both at the same time: Owl and Heron. The last seemed to shift constantly between male and female, never settling for long. Mirri decided to call them Turtle, because their mask resembled the shell of one.

There was a hierarchy amongst them, but she was to obey all of them in equal measure. Mirri suspected that Owl was the leader in all things. The fairy seemed to speak the most and the rest deferred to their command. Turtle, Vixen, and Spider seemed relatively equal, and Petal and Butterfly were likely subs, just slightly higher up on the hierarchy than Mirri, but she wasn't sure about the others.

It was Petal and Butterfly who lead her to a short platform before the others. She stood still, gaze resting lightly on the floor so all that she could see was their glittering clothes. The light in the room had been lowered, the glass full of gentle illumination that didn't hurt her eyes. The fairies had requested that she remove her shoes and socks, and her coat hung on a hanger beside the door.

All Mirri wore was her dress and that was going to be stripped from her relatively soon. She shivered before them, feeling completely bare underneath their even gazes.

"We must prepare you properly," Owl said, standing directly in front of Mirri. Their posture was perfect, and their mask gave them a regal air. They nodded at Petal and Butterfly, who had both removed their robes. Underneath, they were bare to the waist. Their bodies were as perfect as if they'd been designed by a master artisan. Smooth skin moved over sleek muscles. Petal's breasts looked hard, rather than soft, carved perfection. Mirri couldn't help but to stare admiringly as the two fairies stepped up to her. "Undress the succubus and ensure that she is receptive."

Though she was expecting their touch, she still jumped when the two fairies rested their hands on their shoulders. Petal cupped Mirri's breast in one hand, the other sliding down Mirri's side. Her fingers ended at the hem of Mirri's skirt, nails brushing gently against the skin of Mirri's thigh and leaving a trail of electric tingles behind them. She fiddled with the skirt, teasing Mirri and the fairies who watched them from thrones made of glass.

Butterfly pressed his lips against Mirri's neck. His tongue was hot as he slid it across her skin and then he sucked gently on the spot. Mirri moaned weakly as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive area.

"Silence, succubus," Turtle ordered sharply. "You are to be seen and not heard."

Mirri fell silent, biting the tip of her lip slightly. She shivered as Butterfly's hands stroked her shoulders, fingers wandering just beneath her neckline to brush against the tops of her breasts. His fingers weren't cold, but they were chillier than she was, a sharp contrast to Petal's heat. The tips of his fingers didn't quite reach her nipples, but they tugged at the fabric of her dress, dragging it across them in a way that made her quiver.

It was a show for the others as they fondled her, taking their sweet time in removing what little she wore. Petal kissed Mirri's jaw as she wrapped her arms around Mirri's waist. Her hands found their way beneath Mirri's skirt, lifting it up enough to tease the others at what lay beneath. Sharp nails stroked the silk band of the harness, drawing lines of sensation between Mirri's legs. Mirri fought back a whimper as Petal's thumb found the sensitive nub of flesh above her sheath. Petal traced a circle around it, the pressure alone enough to cause a wave of heat to rush through Mirri's body. It pooled in her abdomen with a damp heat.

Butterfly ran his fingers through Mirri's hair and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth as his hands wandered down. As Petal focused on Mirri's lower body, he rubbed Mirri's nipples with his thumb until they were hard and sensitive to the drag of fabric against them. He cupped her breasts, displaying them to the others as he kissed her jaw and then her neck and shoulder. The kisses were bruising in their intensity and would leave a dark mark come morning. Mirri shifted away from him, unable to help a whimper.

"Control yourself," Owl snapped at Butterfly. Butterfly's kisses lightened and Mirri went still.

Petal hiked up the hem of Mirri's skirt until it was up around her hips and revealed the silk bands of Mirri's harness to the others. Her touch was firm, unyielding as she stroked the skin of Mirri's inner thigh and the places between her legs. She flushed as Petal's fingers slipped beneath the silk band and began to probe gently at her entrances, circling the rims of tight muscle as her thumb drew back the hood of Mirri's sensitive bud so that she could touch it directly.

"Mmmmhmm!" Mirri couldn't stop the moan that escaped from her although she tried desperately to do so. The band of silk was damp with her arousal, and she was wet enough that Petal's fingers found little friction as they continued to stroke and massage her. Butterfly wrapped a hand around Mirri's neck. He did not squeeze, but the pressure of his hand was enough to make her tense up. He smirked at her as he stroked the skin of her rear, bared to him with her skirts around her waist. He cupped it in his hands, then followed the silk band down until his fingers competed with Petal's to arouse her. Mirri was sandwiched between their hot bodies, almost drowning in their desire. Her body became their toy as they played it like an instrument. She wasn't sure when they became the only thing holding her up, her legs unable to bear her weight on their own.

At some unknown signal, they finally stripped her of her dress. Petal undid the zipper slowly so that the top of the dress slid from Mirri's shoulders, exposing the skin there inch by inch. Butterfly played with her as the dress slipped from Mirri's body to crumple in a a heap of delicate pink fabric on the ground. She stood before the fairies dressed only in her harness. The air hadn't felt cold before, but Mirri's body was so much hotter now and now the touch of it was chilly as it swept across her skin and raised goosebumps on her entire body.

She felt the heat from the fairies' hands more intensely than before as they stroked her bare skin. She melted into their embrace, their arms tangled with her body. They tugged her around by her harness, playing with the buckles as if they couldn't understand them. The bands of the harness pressed against her skin, dragged against her breasts and between her legs. Mirri tilted her head back as Butterfly lined kissed up her neck and caught a glimpse of the other fairies watching intently from their thrones. She'd forgotten that they were even there, forgotten that it wasn't just her, Butterfly and Petal. She became viscerally aware that the band of harness was more than damp, it was soaked. Her arousal dripped down her leg and on the floor beneath her feet. She crossed her legs in front of her, self-conscious despite herself.

"Uncross your legs." The order came from Heron. "Stand still or we shall bind you."

Vixen looked bored as she filed sharp claws. "Hurry up and strip her already. At this rate, we shall die of old age before we can even taste her."

Mirri swallowed and opened her legs again, the knowledge that they were watching sending an electric tingle through her entire body. Butterfly undid the first buckle and her harness swung open at her left hip. Metal bumped between Mirri's thighs as the buckle dangled. Then the right hip and the buckles at her shoulders were undone by Petal's skillful fingers. The harness hung from the straps that ran lengthwise down her body and from the final buckle between her shoulder blades. Her breasts were open for admiration and Butterfly took the opportunity presented to him. Mirri gasped softly as his lips closed around her right nipple. His mouth was warm, his tongue skilled.

Petal undid the last buckle and the harness fell to the floor, joining her dress. Mirri shuddered as her true form revealed itself, her wings manifesting from the aether. The world took on a sharper edge, all of her senses keener. Her entire body tuned itself to sex and now it was further attuned, every touch so vivid that it bordered on painful. She could taste their joint desire for her body, it hung so thickly in the air that the taste of it was drugging. She fluttered her wings, no longer shy about her naked body. Her tail twitched from side to side, leaving a trail of pheromones in the air that made the fairies attending to her do so with even greater passion, their eyes so dilated that their irises were pale rings of color.

Butterfly pressed a kiss to her breast. Petal gently nudged Mirri's legs apart and took the sensitive bud of flesh between them in her lips. Mirri let out a soft sound, halfway between a whimper and a moan as Petal's tongue swirled around it. Her legs became limp and she relied upon Butterfly's strong hands and arms as he held her upright. Petal's fingers curled around Mirri's hips, nails biting gently into Mirri's skin.

"Make sure she is fully wet," Owl said dispassionately. Their disinterest was a lie. Mirri could feel their desire to touch and kiss and hold and control. They wanted her fiercely, to turn her into nothing more than a living doll that would please them. They wanted to reduce her to a drooling, mindless bit of flesh for them to fuck, moaning with the pleasure they had broken her with. Her wings fluttered, her nerves only driving up the sensitivity of her body. Petal's teeth grazed the bud of flesh between her legs and Mirri cried out as if she could orgasm from that alone. She was feverish with heat and desire now, needing more than tongues and fingers that offered stimulation but no satisfaction.

She wanted the fairies to descend upon her and take her apart slowly, peeling her apart so they could satisfy and sate every bit of her that demanded attention. She wanted them to use her and use her fully. She was seated at the buffet table, but her wrists were bound and she could do nothing but stare at the feast laid before her. Her arousal was no longer mere drips. It dribbled upon Petal's face and down Mirri's leg, started to pool on the floor beneath her feet.

Butterfly switched his attention from Mirri's breasts to her sensitive wings, a single dark point within the room, swallowing up the light. She fluttered them, feeling energy buzz through her body as he massaged and kissed the arms even as her membranes ached for attention. She could feel herself rising to climax, her entire body clenched and ready for the release of tension.

"She is ready," Owl said. Smooth glass clamped around the arm of one wing, a cool glass cuff with a satin lining and a fine chain of gold attached. Mirri cried loudly, forgetting the order for silence as her climax came to a stuttering halt before it even began. Another cuff clamped around her other wing and Butterfly began to fiddle with the chains. She tried to turn her head around to watch, but Heron approached her and pressed their lips onto hers. The kiss was demanding, her mouth yielded and opened before them. They tasted of impossible things, of spring days and summer nights. She tasted their lust for her too, and fed freely upon it. It sweetened the kiss, leaving her dizzy from the lack when they suddenly broke it and pulled away.

The other fairies came down now, inspecting her with their hands and lips. She was helpless, caged by their bodies as efficiently as if she were trapped behind steel bars. Mirri's arms were drawn behind her back, her wrists cuffed securely together and then fastened to a belt around her waist, further restricting her movement. Gold rings were threaded through her nipples, the weight adding another sense of stimulation as the hoops brushed against her skin with every movement. Small glass weights were attached to the hoops by fine chains and they bumped against her abdomen with every shift of her muscles. Dizzy from the fairy's attention, she lost track of what individuals were doing, aware only of how her body reacted to them.

Owl stood before her. She managed to make them out. They were still impossibly regal before her, dressed fully in their silk feathers. They studied her curiously.

"You have tried very hard to be quiet for us, succubus," Owl said. "But you have failed. Gag her."

Vixen smirked as she sashayed up. The gag she held was a round ball attached to silk strips. The ball itself was clear like glass and for a moment she worried it _was_ glass. Mirri hesitated, but she opened her mouth to accept it. It wasn't that big, but it still stretched her jaw open, big enough to trap her tongue in place. Despite its appearance, the texture was closer to silicon, soft but fundamentally firm. A fairy between Mirri's legs-- not Petal, Petal was kissing Mirri's hips-- nipped at Mirri's little bud. Mirri's yelp came out as a muffled noise, indecipherable.

"Much better," Lizard said, nodding at Owl. "Her voice is pleasant enough, but her cries get on my nerves."

Owl snorted slightly and clapped their hands. The fairies around Mirri scattered. Free to make noise now, Mirri whimpered into her gag as her body was left bereft of their touch. The absence was almost as excruciating as the touch itself.

"Come, succubus," Owl ordered. Mirri followed them behind a pane of glass etched with frost patterns, leaving a dripping trail of her arousal behind her. There was a low platform set upon the ground, with a sort of round arch at the very center that rose smoothly from the platform. Mirri swallowed as she noticed round nubs that decorated the arch. They were smallest at the edges, largest at the center. Even as she watched, they changed shape subtly, becoming rounder, with slightly tapered tips like an egg. Rings along the sides of the platform looked like they had been meant to secure cuffs and other bindings in place.

"Kneel on the platform," Owl said. Mirri went down on her knees, straddling the arch as best she could. It was low enough that it would only affect her if she sat back, which she didn't do. Owl looked at her, amused. "Sit back. Yes, like that. Spread your legs wider."

Mirri whimpered into the gag again as she did as ordered, spreading her legs until her knees were even with the edges of the platform. The nubs on the arch rubbed sweetly against her sheath, folds and even the little bud of flesh. The mere touch of the smooth glass brought pleasure and relief. Despite herself, she found her hips rolling against them. She was aware of the other fairies watching with amusement, exchanging looks.

"Do you like the way it feels, pet?" Vixen asked. One hand lifted up Mirri's chin. She did her best to nod. Vixen smiled. "You're about to like it a lot more."

"Secure her," Heron said to Butterfly and Petal. The two fairies brought forth silk rope. They bound Mirri's ankles first, first to each other and then to a ring on the platform behind Mirri. Her knees were similarly bound, and then rope was wound around her thighs to prevent her from moving off of the nubs. 

"Sit up," one of the fairies commanded. Mirri straightened her back and shoulders and the fairies quietly twittered amongst themselves as they looked at her. The fairy glanced at Owl, who had busied themselves with preparing the five orbs with delicate chains of what looked like silver diamonds. "Lord, her posture is atrocious. May we use a corrector?"

Owl glanced in Mirri's direction and then nodded. Mirri glanced over as a strange device was brought forward. It resembled a cross between a harness and a corset, with glass rods in the back. She shifted her weight, catching her breath as the nubs rubbed against her pleasingly.

Her wings were worked through the open back of the harness and her wrists were bound temporarily in front of her as the fairies assembled the thing around her. Her shoulders were buckled into the top bit, straining as they were forced straight for the first time in her life. A stiff, wide collar was buckled around her neck, even as a series of straps went around her waist and abdomen. Her muscles began to ache as she was forced to sit 'correctly'.

"Better," the fairy said. There was a bit more tampering with the harness. Mirri felt the single central rod that demanded her back be perfectly straight shift around and then heard a faint click. They cuffed her wrists behind her back again as well, thick cuffs with soft padding. She tried to twist, but the harness held her upper body firmly in place, leaving her completely at the fairies' mercy. She let out a soft whimper into the gag as she watched them step around her with the orbs, arranging them in a loose circle around her. Chains led from the orbs to the cuffs on her wings, the only part of her body that could still move at all beside her tail.

The heat of her body had begun to cool, but then the arch began to vibrate beneath her. The buds pressed against her vibrated as well. It felt good and she tried to press against them, rolling her hips from side to side to add to the stimulation. The movement was slight, but it was still enough to cause the weights to shift, pulling at her breasts. New arousal made Mirri slick once again and she slid easily over the frictionless buds.

"Fun isn't it, pet?" Vixen dropped to her knees before Mirri and then sat down. She picked up the chains of the weights in her hands and tugged on them, making Mirri gasp weakly. "You succubi are so easily pleased. Aroused at even the slightest touch. Look how wet you are and this is the lowest setting. How high do you think we have to go to turn you into a true mess? I bet two more levels and you won't even remember your name."

Turtle stroked Mirri's wings. She felt additional cuffs tighten around the arms of her wings. A ring was clamped around her tail and then tightened. A nub along the inside applied pressure to a sensitive point she didn't even know she had until now. She ground harder against the glass nubs, but they continued on at their mild vibration, uncaring of her growing lust. She whimpered as the pleasant sensation quickly revealed itself to be not enough and frustrating in the extreme.

"Peace, succubus," Turtle said soothingly as they continued to stroke Mirri's wings. The cuffs and the ring on her tail began to vibrate as well, making her breath catch in her chest. "You cannot rush this kind of work. Relax and enjoy it. You will be rewarded soon enough."

"My fellow lords, we must wait before we can enjoy the succubus. Please, let us turn to each other now," Owl said. Mirri blinked as the other fairies backed away from her and wandered over to Owl. Furniture made from glass slid across the floor silently and the fairies reclined upon it in pairs and trios. Owl was the center of it all, directing their companions. They smiled at Mirri as they leaned back in a chair that greatly resembled a throne.

The fairy gestured. The vibration beneath Mirri increased. Not an incredible amount, but enough that she noticed. Enough that she felt relief and pleasure again. The message was clear, the fairy was in control and Mirri would just have to deal with it. The thought itself made her feel wet and she lashed her tail in anticipation.

Petal undressed completely, dismissing her skirt into a shower of golden dust and flower petals. At Owl's command, she sat upon a clear platform and spread her legs wide open, putting herself upon fully display. She met Mirri's eyes and smiled sweetly at her as she spread herself open with her fingers, playing. Mirri's fingers curled against her palms as Petal quickly made herself wet, her slick fingers sliding in and out of her sheath. Her body shuddered with pleasure, Mirri could feel it and taste it. She fantasized that it was her own fingers that made such an effect on Petal.

Butterfly undressed next, so that both of the fairies were nude before the rest. At a command from Turtle, Petal slid from the platform and began to service him with her mouth. Mirri moaned softly into the gag, her tongue swiping across the smooth ball. Beneath her, the vibrations continued on at their steady pace. Were they stronger than before? She thought so but it was difficult to tell.

One by one, the fairies stripped themselves of their clothes and joined in. Wolf was next, stroking his sword with sure, steady motions. He commanded Petal to stand on her hands and knees. Petal cried out when he entered her from behind, shoving her forward with every thrust os his hips. Butterfly stepped aside and was instantly ensared by Vixen and Dragonfly. They stretched him out on the platform Petal had abandoned, straddling his face and his sword.

Their lust lingered in the air with phantom sensations. Mirri's mouth was around someone's sword, no it was buried deep between her legs and driving deep with every thrust. Someone's lips were on her breasts, no they were around the bud between her legs. The ghost sensations made her keenly aware that she was being stimulated only by objects, not touched and out of the fairie's circle of pleasure.

She looked away from them, her tongue sliding across the gag again in an attempt to feel full. But it was the wrong shape and it was too small. It only muffled her moans as the vibrantion picked up a notch. It offered no pleasure now, just frustration as she ground her hips uselessly down on it. She wanted to touch and be touched, to take Petal's place as the fairies did as they pleased with her. She was full in her sheath and mouth now, taking both Butterfly and Wolf. Vixen was beneath Petal, sucking on Petal's breasts as Dragonfly pressed kisses that left marks on Petal's shoulders and back.

Pay attention to me! Mirri wanted to cry out. The gagged muffled the plea. She whined and that was muffled as well as the vibration began to increase faster beneath her. One of the fairies orgasmed-- Petal-- and Mirri moaned as she sensed how full Petal felt and how empty Mirri was in comparison. She swayed as Butterfly climaxed next and he was instantly dragged away to service Heron.

Wet heat pooled beneath Mirri, thoroughly coating the nubs beneath her as she swayed as much as she could. She could feel it on the inside of her thighs, and her knees rested in a small puddle of it. A wash of pheromones spread through the air as her tail lashed wildly from side to side, a chemical lure to remind them of her presence. It had the opposite effect. They went wilder at each other, harder, faster, fiercer. She felt their pleasure and lust, drank freely from it but the satisfaction of being fed no longer meant anything at all.

"Look at us!" Owl snapped at Mirri. She raised her eyes to them. Owl was the only one who stood aloof from the orgy at their feet. The other fairies had given up decorum. They were a tangle of limbs and sex. Her wings quivered and the sensation of being in the center of them returned with a fiecer heat. She felt feverish again with heat, gold light beginning to pulse beneath her skin on a tracery of thin lines. Her wings flapped, the chains jangled and her breast felt swollen and aching for touch. Beneath her, the vibrations intensified. Too much. It had become too much. She tried to beg for a respite, but nothing came out.

The fairies had lost the illusion of humanity, or maybe Mirri was just seeing through it for the first time. She moaned and tried to cry and scream to get their attention, but the gag silenced every attempt. She needed them, didn't they understand that? Her tail waved again in the air, her wings beat her pheromones in their direction. Look at me! Pay attention to me!

Futile, it was futile. She whimpered and whined and tears dripped down her face. The vibrations were almost painful now, so strong that they threatened to shake her apart from her very core. They weren't pleasant anymore, stimulation without pleasure. It wasn't painful either, it just was. She whined, trying to rise off of them and bring relief to herself. There was nothing to be done. The ropes held her firmly in place. They held her on a blade's edge, just short of her true orgasm. Golden energy flooded across Mirri's skin in wide paths, pulsing with her racing heart. She began to cry from the intensity of it all, the way that the world sharpened in every sense of the word.

Mirri panted and glanced back over her shoulder. The orbs glowed slightly, only the thinnest of streams of energy running through the chains. She whimpered and sobbed as the platform beneath her increased itself again. Her tail waved, adding fresh desperation into the air.

"Look at me," the words came through, a soft purr. Mirri lifted her eyes to Owl. The fairies frolicked, wound so closely together it was difficult to tell where one ended and another began. They were a mess of limbs, shoving against each other coated in white release. Owl still sat in their throne. They were naked now, their legs spread. They stroked a mass of roots wound about their hips and waist, coiling into a long, thick shaft that shuddered under the touch of Owl's fingers.

Owl smiled at her. "Look at what you have done, little succubus."

Mirri didn't understand. She whimpered. She needed them. She needed all of them. Her skin burned with heat and energy zapped through her veins and nerves with almost searing heat. She waved her tail again, limply.

Owl continued to stroke themselves, working the soft bundle of roots into a hard, thick shaft. Mirri could see the restraint in their eyes, could taste their lust.

"Look at what you have reduced them too, succubus," Owl said. "They underestimated you and look-- _Look!--_ at what you have done to them."

She saw desperation and thrusting hips. She didn't understand what Owl was saying until she tasted their raw desire, their lust and their arousal. They were nearly as bad as she was. She cried out as one began to orgasm but couldn't reach the point. It was almost worse to experience it second hand, her own experience magnified by their denial.

Owl's lips spread into a smile. "We're keeping you from orgasming. You're returning the favour, you know."

Mirri moaned as the vibrations increased sharply. She cried out, thinking that it might give her sweet release. But she fell short and crashed as it suddenly went still. The ropes and harness binding her fell away from her limbs and she collapsed limply across the soaked surface of the platform, knees slipping in a pool of her own arousal. 

"Prepare her for me!" Owl said. Mirri blinked up at them, but the fairies lunged at her and dragged her into the center of their circle. She moaned as fingers dug into her sheath and the hole beneath her tail, found her wet and fully ready. There was no control or restraint to their touches, just fierce demand that her body serve them and bring them the pleasure they had been denied.

The gag was yanked out of her mouth. Mirri gasped out for a moment, drool pulling away and falling down the side of her mouth. Someone claimed it almost instantly, straddling her face. Mirri didn't know who it was. The skin was scaled. A vaguely-female set of genitals was lined with grasping, segmented clippers and it dripped with a bittersweet fluid. Mirri licked and lapped at the fairy, crying out as her raw sensation morphed back into true pleasure as her skin was touched and she was being touched. She was surrounded by hot bodies, damp with sweat and slick with fluid. This was where she needed to be.

Someone's mouth closed around the tip of Mirri's tail, tongue probing at a gland. Mirri moaned into the fairy, finding a rhythm as the fingers rubbed deep within her. She was aware of a thick gel, slippery against her skin. The fairy was pulled off of her mouth and she heard a shrill cry and a fight. Her mouth wasn't left empty for long. Another fairy replaced it, a long shaft pushed past her lips and instantly began to thrust long and deep. She felt it at the back of her throat and moaned with pleasure. Her tongue skidded across its surface.

The fairies tugged at Mirri's wings, fought over who got to suckle her breasts despite the fact that the rings were in the way. She was laid out on her back, her tail exchanging hands and mouths. Something pressed against her sheath and Mirri moaned as one of the fairies pierced her with his sword. It was comfortably thick, comfortably long. She took it easily as they began to thrust in and out, matching the rhythm of the other fairy.

New heat flushed through her body. her skin glowed solid gold now, and the gold was slowly being replaced by white. Mirri squirmed in the fairies' hands as they stroked her skin. Someone pulled the other two out of the way and new fairies replaced them. She was shifted onto her hands and knees and cried in pleasure as every one of her holes was filled. Kisses burned across her skin.

She felt her arousal building again and surely-- surely--

It wasn't enough.

Mirri cried out in raw frustration and the other fairies echoed her cry as her pheromones drove all of them into a stronger frenzy. She was sloppy now, she felt drunk as her world spun round and round and round. She felt everything, the sensations sharp as blades, cutting away reason and thought. Her body grew weaker, they grew stronger. She was a doll in their hands, reduced to nothing but a pleasurable toy they could fight over and manipulate.

It was too much.

She whimpered something, pushing at the fairies around her. Signal. There was a signal. Yes. That had been in the negotiations the fairies had taken hours to get around. A signal to tap out, if she needed to. She hit the ground with one hand, producing a ringing bell sound. Once. Twice. Three times.

The fairies didn't react to the signal. Not at first. Mirri began to thrash in place. Panic and fear overwhelmed her arousal. She remembered other groups, that used her and used her until she had nothing to give and then they used her again, ignoring her desire to stop.

She did it again and one or two peeled away. Hands tugged at shoulders and the rest of her body. She felt some of their determination to finish. She repeated it again, starting to cry and sob into the pair of spread legs she was pressed up against. Hands grabbed at the others.

"Enough!"

The order was accompanied by a blast of cold air over them, knocking all of them back and making them tumble into the ground. Mirri's body left a smear of unnameable fluids on the smooth glass, a long streak of white. She cried out softly as the other fairies whimpered and whined.

Owl strode through the mess of bodies. They glanced at something, and Mirri turned her head. She saw one of the orbs, glistening with dim light. It wasn't full. She swallowed, memories of a conversation about five orbs filling her mind. How long had it been? It felt like hours, days. And she had only partially filled one of them?

Owl scowled at two of the fairies. Wolf and Spider. "You two have violated not only our contract, but also the law of hospitality. Sit on the chairs, I shall deal with you later."

The two fairies peeled away, faces red. Mirri panted for breath as Owl stood before her.

"Please," she begged. "I can't-- I need release, please, please."

"Of course," Owl said. "Do you require a break afterward?"

Mirri swallowed and nodded. Energy crackled through her body, the tension and static that came before a lightning bolt. The rest of her dragged with exhaustion. "Yes, please."

"It will be done." The fairy signaled. Butterfly and Petal hurried over. Petal laid down beneath Mirri, her legs spread wide. Butterfly straddled her hips, slotting easily between her legs. Mirri was guided to lay across his back, warm and strong. She melted into place, her legs spread wide around them. She wrapped her arms around Butterfly's shoulders. Lizard kneeled before the three of them, stroking a sword woven from shadows. It was strangely shaped, not quite human. But a sword was a sword was a sword.

Owl stroked the area between Mirri's legs. Her sheath welcomed their fingers gratefully. "You are a very strong succubus, Mira. We shall take good care of you."

She hadn't actually expected them to stop, she realized. But they had. The feeling caused a fluttering feeling in her chest. She nodded her head silently and then rested her head against Butterfly's muscular shoulder.

She gasped when Owl slid slowly into her sheath. Her body jerked instinctively. She had thought she'd been stretched out fine, but that wasn't the case. Owl was big, almost the biggest thing she'd ever taken. She mewled as she stretched around them, the rippled woven roots that made up the shaft pushing unevenly against the slick walls of her sheath. And they pushed and pushed and pushed into her until she thought it would never end.

Owl's hips lay flush with Mirri's and the fairy paused. Mirri's body was quick to adapt to their size and she moaned at the sensation of feeling so very, very full, almost impossibly so. Lizard gently guided their way into her mouth and she took them deep within her throat, letting out another satisfied moan as they settled.

Their fingers stroked her throat gently. Then the two fairies began to move, working together. She keened around Lizard as Owl pulled out slowly. Her body was so tight around Owl that the fairy pulled her body with them, her sheath resisting their sword. Her body shifted against Butterfly's as Butterfly began to take Petal with the same slow, smooth motion. It was a rippling wave of pleasure, utterly different than the desperation of before.

The roots of Owl's shaft dragged deliciously against Mirri. The two began to pick up pace slowly until it was fast but still so very smooth and not hard at all. She was pushing against Butterfly as well, pushing him harder onto Petal. She felt herself building up again, the other fairies rising with her. She was white with energy now, a glowing star.

And it--

She began to whimper again, crying as it was just short of enough. The other two moved faster, but she was missing something. She had no idea what to do, but she waved her tail and tried to tell them that there needed to be something else.

For a moment, there was a pause. Fingers plucked at the hole beneath her tail. Something slick and large pushed at the tight ring of muscle. Her body did not resist it as it was pushed within her. She let out a satisified sound as it settled within her, thick and long and heavy. A few moments later, it began to buzz and she felt the knobby protrusions on it pressing against her.

The others resumed their deep, smooth thrusts, building back up to a rapid pace. Mirri was full, so full, so warm. There were hands rubbing her wings, hitting every sweet spot. There was Butterfly beneath her and Petal's desperate gasps.

She climaxed in an explosion of energy and light that shattered her completely. It slammed into everyone who touched her, slammed through the chains and through the orbs. But they were improper vessels, not strong enough to hold it and it slammed back into. She cried out, screaming as the energy seared her nerves with pleasure.

And again. And again. And again.

And there was someone else shouting orders. The energy began to drain, but not quickly enough. The others began to move, trying to soften the waves as she spasmed as the energy hit her again and again and again, seemingly no less weak than the first time. Over and over, she climaxed, the retreating waves causing another one to be triggered.

Until finally the energy was gone.

Mirri heard voices as hands shook her shoulder. She couldn't respond, there was nothing left to her as she plummeted head first into nothingness.


	20. Fourteen - Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian watches executions. Mirri wakes up alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for the executions. Mentions of blood and torture. I don't think it was too graphic, but I'm going to warn just in case.

The only good thing about the executions was at least most of them were quick. The captured succubi were marched out into the execution square. Only in ten of the ordinary succubi that had rebelled had been slated for execution, the rest had been sent to harvesting camps or to retraining pavilions if they were valuable enough. Lilian wasn't exactly sure which was a better fate. Neither was one she'd want. Harvesters worked as camp support for the army, serving the incubi soldiers and keeping them topped full of grace. Succubi sent there never lived very long. The retraining pavilions stripped away personality and mind, leaving nothing but a moldable, effectively new succubus that could then be resold at a discount to poorer incubi.

The condemned were marched out in long lines onto the square and were then forced to kneel down. Younger officers awaiting promotion stood behind them until the signal was given for the execution to begin. The entire square was set into a low dell and benches lined the terraced steps that lead down into it so that more people could watch the executions happen. Most people that filled the benches were incubi citizens. Succubi slaves kneeled nervously beside their masters. Those that weren't present had undoubtedly been herded into their barracks to watch the execution on the national broadcast.

Examples would be made of those who rebelled in the hope of intimidating the succubi and quelling further rebellion. Lilian felt sick at the thought of so much death and honestly she would have preferred to remain inside the palace. But she was the High General, even if she'd stopped acting like it awhile ago, and she was Sabine's betrothed. It was her responsibility to stand beside the queen and show her support or they'd have more to worry about than rebellion.

Sabine sat on a bone-white chair that resembled a throne. She overlooked the square from a stone stage built beside it so that everyone could see the queen's approval of the executions. Lilian admitted that Sabine looked impressive. She was solemn and grave in her dress, a force of power when combined with the throne and crown she wore. She looked like a master of life and death. Lilian tried not to remember the last time she'd seen Sabine sit there, hoping that the master would find a way to spare her kitten's life before Lilian went too far.

Lilian sat beside Sabine in a wooden chair that was a smaller replica of Sabine's. Her fingers were curled around the armrests of the chair, her knuckles stark white. The other nobles were arranged along the sides of the stage, on a lower level than Sabine and Lilian. Succubi kneeled at the feet of various incubi, leashes held loosely in fingers or looped over the incubi's wrist. Pheromones swirled in the air, the metallic edge of incubi dominance pushing out over the sour tang of succubi fear and distress and bittersweet self-soothing pheromones.

Lilian bared her teeth ever so slightly, fighting the urge to _protect-own-soothe-protect-own_. The scents were nearly overwhelming now, enough to make her feel ill. She breathed shallowly, trying to inhale as little as possible. The tips of her tentacles twisted and curled, seeking out the source of the fear and make it vanish. It was instinct, deep as the desire to bond a succubus. 

There was an anxious edge in the conversations held by the incubi. Lilian could hear it, despite the usual arrogant assurances that incubi were superior to the succubi. They were the hunters, the masters of succubi, created to manage them and care for them. Of course the succubi were better off as slaves. What on earth would they do otherwise?

Nevermind the fact that succubi could live in isolated and free communities and suffer no consequences, in physical or mental health. They needed nothing from incubi that they couldn't get elsewhere. Even the bond could fade in time, if a succubus stayed away long enough. It didn't happen very often, but it was still a possibility. The strength of the bond waned with distance and time after all.

But the archdemons who had made the incubi had made their predators with a single, fatal flaw. Unlike the succubi, who could live without incubi, incubi couldn't live without succubi. They were all born addicted to succubi pheromones. Incubi without succubi swiftly died.

Lilian was no exception. She had a small dispenser in her apartment and vials of purified pheromones to keep herself relatively clear-headed and healthy. Perhaps not as healthy as she would otherwise be, but it was enough. The dispenser wasn't exactly necessary with Mirri now, whose pheromones filled the apartment with a comforting presence that soothed Lilian's nerves and lifted her mood.

She missed Mirri.

Sabine glanced down at Lilian as everyone took their places. Then she stood from her chair and a silence fell across the entire square. She spoke, but Lilian heard very little of what was actually said in the speech. It was the normal platitudes, dressed up in fancy words. They'd won the fight, the rebels had lost. Nothing at all would change.

Sometimes, Lilian wished things would change.

The order was given. Swords crafted for the single purpose of being used for the promotion flashed as they lifted high into the sky. The officers swore loyalty to Sabine, speaking in one voice that resounded through the square. And then the swords fell. Not all at the same time. Some incubi faltered, looking down at the tear-streaked faces they had to kill. But the swords fell none the less.

Lilian's nails dug into the armrests of her chair. The bodies burst into dust as they hit the ground, but the pools of blood remained, marking out a neat grid on the stone. A glittering haze lingered in the square before a breeze blew it towards the hatching grounds where the lowest-class laborers were born.

More succubi were pushed into the square. More new officers stepped forward and the process repeated itself. Lilian tried not to notice how the succubi beside their masters flinched every time the swords were raised. None dared turn away. It would be seen too much like sympathy. Despite the breeze some of the dust lingered in the air as the pools of blood grew bigger.

Lilian kept her eyes focused in front of her, kept her body calm despite the way she wanted to stop the massacre. There was nothing she could do for the succubi. It had taken all of her power to argue that they be killed as swiftly-- as mercifully-- as possible. She hated that it was all she could do.

Lilian wanted her small, uncomplicated apartment and she wanted Mirri. Mostly she wanted Mirri. Her tentacles sought out the empty space beside her, where Mirri liked to sit (and where her kitten had always kneeled). Errolr was absent, Lilian refused to let Sabine bring him and re-traumatize him. Having her kitten's memories was probably enough of a weight.

Even if he had come, he would have sat on Sabine's other side. Errolr was Sabine's succubus, not Lilian's.

The fifth and last group of the ordinary succubi were finally executed, bodies turned to dust. Lilian let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She forced herself to relax and unclench tense muscles.

She and Sabine sat in near silence. The only sound had been the oaths of the officers and the soft whimpers of condemned succubi. The defeated rebels had done little more than cry. The last time they'd been defeated, the rebels had fought to the end. Or they'd begged for mercy. Only her kitten had gone to her death quietly.

The silence was... eerie.

Sabine reached over to Lilian. "It will be over soon, my dear."

"Such a waste of life," Lilian murmured softly. "Is it really necessary?"

"We must show strength," Sabine said.

"To who? The succubi who always get caught in the middle?" Lilian hissed under her breath. "Those that were lied to and abused and used, their lives thrown away?"

Sabine stared straight forward, face expressionless. "You've grown soft, Lilian. You care too much."

"Being cruel to those who can't defend themselves doesn't mean you are strong," Lilian muttered.

"They are only succubi," Sabine growled Lilian's name. It struck at Lilian's core like a plucked string. Lilian swallowed, suddenly cold and hot all at once. Her opposition to Sabine seemed foolhardy and her arguments strangled before she could give them voice. Had they been arguing? It was a bit fuzzy now. She glanced down at the scene before her, at blood and dusty air. "You would do well to remember that."

The leaders were pushed into the square. There were twenty of them, or at least twenty that had survived to the executions. Several had taken their own lives, rather than face the death the incubi planned for them. Lilian didn't blame them one bit. Their executioners were those undergoing promotion to high office and that meant a harder resolve. Now, not only was the ability to kill required, but the ability to torture.

The oaths of loyalty were given. Azira, the highest officer to be promoted, stood over the top leader of the succubi. The succubus looked awfully young to Lilian. She also looked terrified, already whimpering as she as securely bound to a stone slab at waist-height. Lilian wondered numbly if the trembling child was actually the leader or just a scapegoat used by succubi and incubi alike and found that it did not matter.

The knives flashed, blood turning the steel dark red. Nothing showed on the uniforms of the executioners, whose red uniforms still gave the appearance of being pristine.

Some of the succubi died a bit before the others, their executioners a bit too greedy for blood. Others lingered far longer than they should have, their executioners desiring to make it last as long as possible. Bodies dissolved into mist unevenly and the entire courtyard was full of the sound of desperate screams that turned into choked cries and then one by one, the succubi voices fell silent.

Azira's succubus died early. She'd made the first incision a little too deep. By the third incision, the succubus was dead, her body dissolved into dust that swirled and joined the rest as it lifted up into the air. Lilian had never seen Azira slip up with a knife before and there was no reason for her to suddenly become shy of blood and pain now. She stared down at her friend and her friend stared back up at her. There was something in Azira's expression that Lilian wasn't sure how to read.

"The annual Firesong Auction will be held at the Gilded Belladonna," Sabine said, naming one of the largest theaters that sold high-class succubi. She glanced over at Lilian and smiled. Lilian smiled back. "I think it would be wonderful for the two of us to attend."

"Wonderful," Lilian echoed. She nodded her head slightly. Yes. Wonderful. Except... the thought of buying a succubus made her stomach turn over. So did the thought of watching them prance around. Wonderful-- what was so wonderful about it again?

Oh yes. Sabine had suggested it. That made it wonderful.

Sabine's thumb traced circles on the back of Lilian's hand. "You could pick out one you liked, Lilian. A sweet, playful one. A new kitten for you to love. And a companion for Errolr."

 _Kitten. Kitten_ \-- Memories of her kitten swirled in front of Lilian's eyes. A new kitten? It had been a long time, hadn't it? And it would make Sabine very happy if Lilian had a new kitten to love. Except-- Lilian missed her kitten. Not the one she had lost, but the one she had found. Mirri.

_Mirri!_

The thought of her was like a snowball to the face. "No!"

Sabine frowned. "What do you mean, no?"

"I--" Lilian stuttered. Something pushed at her to spill everything out for Sabine. Finding Mirri, Lilian's suspicions. The urge pounded at Lilian's head like a sledgehammer. It took every bit of willpower Lilian had to hold back. Sabine couldn't know about Mirri. Not a word. "I'm not ready. For another succubus. Not yet."

"It's been centuries--"

"Please, Sabine," Lilian asked. "I will go, but I don't think I'm ready just yet."

Sabine sighed, but then smiled at Lilian once again. Lilian's heart lifted at the sight of the smile. "Oh very well. Maybe you'll find one that will change your mind."

"Maybe," Lilian echoed.

"I only want to see you happy, my love," Sabine said. Her thumb began to stroke slow circles on the back of Lilian's hand once more. The contact was reassuring. It was also intolerable. "I do anything for it. You hardly smile at all anymore."

The incubi were being marched into the square now, their hobbled tentacles slithering through pools of blood. Lilian didn't recognize all of them, although she did recognize their houses when they were read out. They were from small houses, ones with little power in the court and no reason to try to take it on. After this, of course, the houses would be disbanded and the few surviving members would slink into the depths of society. Treason would not be tolerated.

"Don't you think it's odd?" she asked, in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"What's odd?" Sabine turned her gaze to the incubi as well and pulled her hand away. Lilian shifted her arm so that both of her hands rested primly in her lap, out of reach of Sabine. They were naked, except for their bindings, and gagged. The executioners prodded them into cages little bigger than coffins. Lilian could see the incubi's skin sizzle and split at the contact from the metal from where she sat.

"Their houses don't have the finances to run a rebellion as big as this," Lilian said. "Not even combined. And why would they attack the crown? It makes no sense. They were going to lose from the beginning."

"I would hardly call it big," Sabine said. Lilian shot Sabine a look. Sabine's fingers tapped lightly against the armrests of her chair. The queen finally nodded her head in the direction of several nobles. Lilian recognized Isabelle standing amongst them, the Lady's expression unreadable. "Perhaps this will help. House Nyaren has sworn oaths of loyalty to House Nyxaelle."

"Ah," Lilian said. House Nyxaelle was a wealthy house, and old. They were masters of cultivating high-class succubi. They were one of five such houses. Unlike the other four houses, which served the palace and kept them supplied, House Nyxaelle held itself apart. Their High Lord had as much ambition as he did wealth. Years ago, during the Trials of Sabine's predecessor, he had been in the running to be King only to lose it in the last Trial. Some said he was still bitter over it. "Do you think Nyxaelle funded them then?"

Sabine shrugged her shoulders elegantly. "Nyaren declared independence from Nyxaelle during the rebellion. Nyxaelle funded most of the war to make up for their rebellious house. It's what decided the legal battle over Errolr-- with the rebellion they had to make a show of loyalty to the crown."

Ugh. Lilian hated politics. "So legally--"

"Legally they were not involved," Sabine said evenly.

"And you believe that?"

The cages were wielded shut and then hoisted up on chains slung over a scaffold. Iron negated demon's abilities so everything had to be done manually. Beneath the scaffold was a deep pool of water, enough to completely submerge the cages.

Drifting in the water were herbs stolen from the human realms meant to repel demons. The same herbs that Mirri had once used to bind her demon form. Poison.

The cages were dropped at a single signal, plunging into the deadly bath. The placid water began to bubble and then to boil. The demons began to dissolve, bits of their flesh peeling away and breaking down into streams of dust.

"It doesn't matter what I believe," Sabine said. "Only the optics of the situation matter now."

"Great," Lilian said as she watched the incubi drown. Several of the incubi looked ill now, not just the succubi. Others had blank faces. Everyone knew this was just a show. Nothing had really been solved at all. And in a few hours time, she'd be force to socialize with them and celebrate the empty victory.

"Just great," Lilian repeated.

* * *

Someone was singing, the voice clear and ringing like a bell as she drifted in and out of sleep. She was aware of vague changes around her. She was cold and shivering, sticky but too sated to lift her head. Then she was being lowered into warm water, with something soft pressing against her skin. And then she was dry and warm, and then she was cold again.

There was a murmur of voices, familiar and not. She thought she could understand them, if she tried hard enough. But they never came to her clearly.

Only the song was clear.

It wrapped around Mirri like a soft blanket, soothing the myriad aches of her body. She was vaguely aware of being set down onto a soft surface and tucked beneath the sheets and comforters by strong hands. She was so sated, she couldn't move, her wings limp and heavy by her sides. The hands gently tucked them in beside her and she snuggled beneath the velvety folds.

"Don't leave me," she murmured, when the warm presence began to back off. She reached out her hand, trying to snag the presence and draw it back. "Lilian, don't leave. Don't go."

Pillows and blankets were added to her cocoon of warmth and security. They smelled familiar, smelled like Lilian. Mirri shifted around until she could bury her head in one. She inhaled the savory scent, its delicate intricates. Something that had been unsatisfied began to purr in contentment, the sound rising up through her until it hovered in the air.

The song seemed to incorporate the sound. It hung in the air, softly. Her grip on the boundaries between reality and dreams blurred. She could hear other things in it too, a soft laugh, a breath against her cheek. Mirri ran her hand along soft skin, pressed her lips sleepily against Lilian even as she was brought into the embrace of Lilian's many limbs. The rest of the world didn't matter.

"Lilian," Mirri purred. Lilian stroked her hair and looked down at her as Mirri nestled up against her side. And Mirri wanted her to stay there, wanted things to stay the same, just her and Lilian and the knowledge that the real Lilian was just as safe as the one in her dreams. "Tell me you're safe. Tell me you won't hurt me and I can trust you."

The Lilian murmured sweet reassurances in Mirri's ear, drawing her even closer so that Mirri couldn't tell where she ended and Lilian began. And then she was less aware of tentacles and muscles and limbs and more aware of sheer presence, wrapped around her, gentle and loving. She was held safe.

She was _safe_.

And then she stood in a realm of mist and mirrors and cold, empty light. She faced her own reflections.

She blinked.

Her reflections blinked.

"You won't be safe."

She whirled around and the reflections vanished. The air was hot and smelled of sulfur. She was dressed in nothing more than panels of silk, standing before a mirror as someone behind her arranged her hair. She lifted a hand to her bare throat, and part of her felt as if something was missing.

"I'm not afraid," she heard herself say, her voice quivering.

"You must be very careful," the incubus behind her said, tentacles curling around her body. "You will receive no help."

"Not even from you?" she heard herself ask, her voice teasing but an edge of anxiety in it. A hand stroked her jaw, her head was tilted. When the kiss came, she welcomed it, tasting roses and chamomile on the demon's breath. But she felt the fangs of the incubus, and the strength of the tentacles and there was something chilly about them as they brushed against her oiled skin.

"Not even from me," the incubus said. "You cannot trust anyone from this point on."

"But--"

"No one," the incubus breathed against her lips. "Ever again."

She didn't know what woke her up. It was more of an absence than anything else. An absence of warmth, of the presence that had lulled her to sleep. The song was gone as well. Lilian wasn't there, of course. There was only pillows stolen from her bed, her scent lingering in the air. It mingled with some other scent that Mirri couldn't name, something that set all of her instincts on edge.

She was back in her room in the apartment. For a moment, her mind didn't process that fact. The room was different and other. It was dark, coldly illuminated by a pale blue light in one corner. The curtains were drawn across the windows, but she saw flashes of lightning outside of them. The bed was comfortable enough, but suddenly terrifying. Mirri was all wrapped up in blankets that had suddenly become constrictive. She thrashed around until she managed to kick them all off and then she sat still, her heart pounding.

How had she gotten back here? How had the fairies _known_ to bring her back here?

Something dragged at her wrist, an unfamiliar weight. She lifted her hand. There was a little chain bracelet around it. The chain was gold and so were the little charms that dangled from it. Most were little glass orbs, full of a glittering gold dust and miniature corks stuffed into the openings. Ten charms were shaped like the masks the fairies had worn-- little animals, petals, and snowflakes.

Mirri wasn't quite reassured by that. She especially wasn't reassured when she couldn't find a way to take _off_ the bracelet and started clawing at it to get it off her wrist. She wasn't exactly sure _what_ happened, but suddenly the bracelet slid over her hand and plopped onto the sheets.

She prodded the bracelet and her fingertips tingled. Then she picked it up and started to go though the charms. One of them was a bit different than the others. It looked like a mini locket shaped like a book. The locket had a title on it. Well, it was less a title and more of a bunch of strange letters that had absolutely no meaning to her.

Mirri fiddled with the latch and the book opened, spilling a mess of paper into her lap. There was a booklet of sorts, made from paper that held pressed flower petals in it. The first page held, 'Terms and Conditions of Service' written on it in golden ink. The second page was covered in a dense, spidery script that laid out a detailed contract. Mirri flipped through it anxiously. The end of the booklet had ten signatures on it, and ten seals, as well as a promise to uphold what was stated in the booklet. Mirri tried to read the contract, but got lost three paragraphs in and felt like she needed a lawyer to understand what was going on. 

There was also a letter, written on the same paper as the booklet. Mirri unfolded it and began to read:

_Dear Succubus,_  
_We have gravely misjudged your abilities and that is our fault for assuming that you were a normal succubus rather than testing you to ensure that you would have an appropriate reaction to the orbs and chains used. Thankfully, you did not seem to have an adverse reaction to them and you may rest assured that you will not suffer permanent damage. We do suggest you take care, as you did channel a considerable amount of energy and it is best to err on the side of caution. The chains just did not seem to have worked with you as well as we are accustomed. Thusly, we have broken hospitality by putting you at risk and for that, we owe you considerably._

_The orbs and chains work by taking advantage of--_

The fairies lost Mirri there. It was a long, complicated explanation that used words that she had no context for. It did mention a lot about channeling energy and Grace, however. She tried a second time and was able to puzzle out a bit more. Apparently succubi weren't perfect vessels for Grace and it leaked out of them. The closer they were to orgasming, the more it leaked and orgasm threw all the channels wide so to speak.

That explained the orgasm denial then. It was effectively a controlled release of Grace. Mirri wasn't exactly sure why it had gone wrong with her though. Neither did the fairies, outside of their brief mention of the chains. They had studied their equipment and found it working perfectly fine. Maybe she was just a deficient succubus? That would be par for course for her, wouldn't it?

_We also owe you due to the fact that you filled more orbs than was stated in our original agreement, for a total of 18 orbs. This, again, is our fault for not paying more attention to how much charge your wings held and acting appropriately to. We have agreed that the best way to repay you is to offer you our services once in return for each of the extra orbs procured. You may call upon us as you wish, and we will help you as we are able. Please take note that it may take a few days for a summons to be answered and plan accordingly. You will find the details of the summons in 'Terms and Conditions of Service'._

_You made many mentions of the Incubus General during your sleep, and we assumed that you dwelled with her. We have returned you to her apartment for the time being and secured it against intruders. No one may enter unless you invite them. The General and any the General invites an exception to that rule. If this is upsetting, we apologize in advance but you would not wake and it was your promised time to go._

_Be well, dear Succubus._

Mirri set down the letter slowly, frowning to herself. Then she went back to the booklet and began to read it, taking notes and trying to translate the dense text into something she could understand. A good portion of it was dedicated to the exact summoning process and what she could and couldn't ask for. Permanent transformations, things that violated other people's consent-- the list went on and on as if the fairies had been determined to close as many possible loopholes as possible. Refusing to act according to the booklet's instructions meant that the request for aid was void and she'd effectively wasted a summons.

By the time she was halfway through, her head was aching and she couldn't read another word. Mirri fiddled with the locket clasp and the book, trying to figure out how to put everything back. By accident she touched the booklet and letter to the charm and both vanished. She sighed and set the latch back in place, her wings rustling on her back. No one had ever mentioned the fairies being a bunch of _lawyers_ to her. 

She glanced around the room, seeking her harness, and found it a moment later. It lay over the back of a soft, comfortable chair. Mirri focused on her human form, trying to force herself to shift back. She managed it, just for a moment. Her wings and tail vanished with infuriating slowness, her legs returning to the human norm. Then her concentration broke and her demon form sprung back into place. Mirri sighed and concentrated again.

Her second attempt faired a bit better than her first. On her third attempt, she managed to hold it for several seconds as she walked over to her harness. Then human form unraveled, just as she touched the bands of silk. Mirri sighed, but she'd take the attempt as a success. At least she'd managed to transform completely that time. 

Mirri fastened the buckles of the harness and dressed in some of the clothes she hadn't managed to fit into her bag. She wondered if the fairies' protection of the apartment extended to whatever Chrissy and her people had done to it. They couldn't come in, but that didn't mean they wouldn't have people watching to see if she came out. Perhaps it would be better to assume that the apartment was under constant watch. And given Chrissy's comments to Tristan, she didn't think she'd be able to return to her sanctuary. Of course, they might not have found it _yet_ , but if that was the case, then she didn't want to draw attention to it. Best stay in the apartment.

Mirri sighed. At least the apartment was safe enough for now. She just wished she didn't feel so much like a fish trying to escape the nets that were closing around it.

The sensation of being vulnerable only increased as she slipped out of the room and poked around. The apartment had been searched. That much was obvious to Mirri. Nothing was out of order, exactly, but nothing was in the exact same place she'd left it either. Mirri tended to have a good memory of such things, developing it for one reason or another throughout her life. In the living room, her history book was open, but the page was to a section on the demon houses, which Mirri had found infinitely boring. The anatomy books were open as well, to pages displaying nerve clusters in a succubus's body. In the computer room, the mouse was slightly ajar and when Mirri checked the search history, it had been recently cleared which was unnerving in its own right.

She checked her job applications. She'd been declined for one reason or another for each job, but two had indicated that they might contact her for future gigs. Perhaps that was for the best-- she wasn't exactly sure if she felt safe enough to go to a gig.

Despite the fact that there was no one there but her, Mirri found herself creeping through the apartment. She didn't turn on the lights, she stepped as quietly as possible. Fear hummed in her veins. She half-expected someone to leap out at her from doorways that had become ghoulish portals. Something slumbered and she would wake it up if she moved too quickly, made too much noise, disturbed too many rooms. Everywhere she looked, there were signs of tampering.

Lilian's room was the only room left untouched. Maybe Lilian had left a spell on it to prevent anyone other than Mirri from entering and messing with the portal. Regardless, it looked the same as the last time Mirri had left it. It smelled slightly dusty, but Lilian's scent lay thick over everything. There was a warmth to it that eased the knot of tension in Mirri's stomach. No one had been in here, it was safe-- or close enough to it.

Mirri turned on the lights and dragged some of her clothes inside Lilian's room. Then her books. She found her scroll, knocked underneath the couch and brought that inside Lilian's room as well. Surely Lilian wouldn't mind her using the bed and living space temporarily? It wasn't like Mirri was snooping. She wasn't exactly sure she could sleep safely in her own bed after knowing someone had gone through her room.

Mirri locked the door securely and then set up the scroll. She bit her lip for a second and then turned it on. The sight of Lilian's messages made Mirri wince. They filled the screen and grew increasingly concerned and desperate although there was an attempt from Lilian to send normal things. But the further she scrolled down, there were fewer pictures of fashions and buildings and flowers and more and more 'Are you okay?', 'Kitten, I'm sorry I yelled at you', 'Kitten, if you're angry at me, I get it, but I just want to know you're fine'.

Mirri hesitantly typed out a reply, _'I'm okay, sorry I didn't get back to you earlier.'_

Almost instantly there was a reply. _'Thank the Archdemons. I was worried. Is everything alright there?'_

She hesitated a bit longer before adding, _'Yes, of course. Can I sleep in your bed?'_

_'Why? Are you sure everything alright, kitten?'_

_'I'm fine. I just feel safer in your room right now. I promise not to snoop.'_ It was leaving out massive parts of the truth, but Mirri wasn't exactly sure she wanted to trust Lilian just yet. She wasn't entirely sure what Lilian would do or how she'd react. She didn't want to hurt Chrissy, not exactly. She just wanted Chrissy to leave her alone. And not sell her off to the highest bidder at every chance possible.

Mirri thought of the woman that had been rolled out in front of Chrissy. Maybe... Her mind ticked as an idea began to form. But first she needed to know what happened to Chrissy. She'd always protected the others at the orphanage-- Mirri found it difficult to believe that she'd become a slaver willingly. Then again, it had been decades. People could change.

Maybe, maybe maybe. Whatever she did, she needed to have it done before Lilian came back from hell.

Lilian had typed out a response while Mirri had thought. _'If it lets you feel safe, feel free. Just take care around the portal'._

 _'I'll take care.'_ Mirri promised. She had no intention of fiddling with the fussy-looking diagram on the floor. Dismantling the portal had been nerve-wracking enough. _'I met some fairies who said they knew you.'_

_'You met the Lord of the Night Spring Court? What have you been up to?'_

_'It was an accident. I was in a club and crossed over some kind of boundary. They came up to me and asked me to play with them.'_ That was a safe enough thing to say, wasn't it? Besides, she needed to eat somehow. _'How do you know them?'_

_'They helped me get through a nasty part of my life. I am glad it was they who found you. The fairy realm isn't the safest place. Did you have fun?'_

_'I definitely didn't go home hungry.'_ Mirri didn't think fun was the right word for the experience. It had been nice regardless. She'd liked being tied up and helpless, but she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to do with that information just yet. _'Do you trust them? The fairies?'_

 _'Trust is the wrong word_ ,' Lilian answered. _'I wouldn't trust them exactly. But they are serious about keeping their word and I trust that. If they say they shall do something, then they will do it.'_

Mirri bit her lip. _'Something happened while I was with them. They wished to harvest grace from me. But it didn't work like they thought it would. Am I-- am I a broken succubus?'_

 _'No, kitten.'_ Lilian replied quickly. _'You're not broken. If I could guess-- the harvesting system didn't work because they couldn't draw off grace?'_

_'I believe so. I don't understand everything they wrote.'_

_'I thought so. You leak grace less than most succubi. It is a trait that would make you very valuable in Hell. You see? Not broken at all.'_

_'Valuable as in expensive?'_

There was a long pause. ' _Yes, you would be a very expensive succubus if you were brought to Hell_.'

Mirri swallowed. _'You aren't going to abduct me and sell me off, are you?"_

 _'No!'_ After a moment, there was more. _'Kitten, all that I love about you would vanish the moment you were brought to Hell. I could never inflict such cruelty on you.'_

 _'I was joking.'_ Mirri typed out. She hadn't been, not really. She stared at Lilian's words, running them through her mind and wanted to believe that they were heartfelt and sincere. Despite her doubts, a sense of warmth seeped through her.

 _'That's not funny.'_ Lilian wrote back.

 _'I suppose it wasn't,'_ Mirri admitted. On the other hand, she hadn't been joking. Not really. _'What have you been doing?'_

 _'Not much._ ' Lilian wrote back. _'I've been trying to find out where you came from.'_

 _'Is it important?'_ Mirri asked.

 _'I believe so, if only to help me solve a_ _mystery.'_ Lilian wrote back.

 _'Does it have to do with why I might be in danger?'_ Mirri asked. _'Why I look like someone you used to know?'_

There was another very long pause. _'Yes. I believe so.'_

 _'Why can't you tell me_ _now?'_ Mirri typed out the words but didn't hit send. Her heart raced in her chest and blood rushed in her ears, drowning out every other sound. Her fingers trembled as she asked the question. She deleted the message, nerves a tight knot in her gut. No. This was something she couldn't ask over text. It was too easy to lie in a simple message. She wanted to see Lilian's face, see every minute reaction of her body.

 _'It must be some story then_ ,' she finally typed out when her hands had stopped shaking so badly. _'I really want to hear you tell it. You'll tell me everything, right?'_

_'Everything that I know. That's a promise, kitten.'_

They were only words, but they were reassuring. _'I'll hold you to it.'_

_'On a less serious note, kitten, I'm trying to decide what would be the best gift for you. Architect's sketches of the palace? Pressed flowers from the gardens of hell? A book of succubi poetry? Essays on geometry and how it applies to the beauty of the anatomical form?'_

_'Poetry? I'm not very good with math.'_

_'I think you'd surprise yourself. You're smarter than you think.'_

Maybe, Mirri thought. She wasn't smart enough to figure out whether or not she could trust Lilian though. Or how to deal with Chrissy and walk away in one piece. _'I think I'd still prefer the poetry.'_

_'Poetry it is. I miss you. Can't wait to see you in a few days. Talk to you tomorrow evening?'_

Mirri hesitated before answering. ' _That would be nice.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit late, but here it is! I'm going to try to stick better to a schedule. We'll see how it goes. Thank you all for reading and I hope you like it.
> 
> Have a good week everyone!


	21. Fifteen - Chrissy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri meets up with Chrissy.

Mirri double- and triple-checked the requirements for summoning the fairies to make sure she understood them correctly. She had thirteen chances to summon them, one or more at a time, not thirteen chances per fairy. She could ask them to do unrelated things when she summoned them but she couldn't ask one fairy to do multiple things. Once she summoned them, they would stick around for a week if the task was something like 'guard this' but no longer. There was a list of things that each of the fairies specialized in. Mirri's attention caught on 'creation of magical items', but her ideas were too ill-formed at the moment to decide on anything. She let them stew as she considered the other specializations. Ward-making, fighting-- the list was detailed and she took her time going over it.

So she had back-up (of a sort) if she wanted to talk to Chrissy. Well, _when_ she talked to Chrissy. Lilian wouldn't be able to protect her forever, and the fairies were only protecting her because of their debt. She could leave, of course. She didn't think Chrissy would chase her through the dimensions, but what if she did? Mirri couldn't run forever. She didn't _want_ to run forever. She'd done that already. She was _tired_ of running away, of scurrying in dark alleyways.

Mirri spent the night mulling things over. The sensation of being trapped bore down on her. Lilian's room was safe, but it was merely a room and the walls felt like they were keeping Mirri _in_ as much as they kept the world _out_. They felt like the bars of the cage and Mirri could only stare out at a life she could never have. When she finally fell asleep, schemes and plots danced through her mind, morphing into ever-stranger situations tinged with fear and anxiety. She woke up the next day, her heart pounding in her chest and feeling as if she couldn't breathe.

Instinctively, she buried herself in pillows and blankets. Lilian's scent surrounded her, a blanket of its own. She took a desperate breath and the tightness in her chest eased. Her heart slowed, she could take another breath. Curling her body around a pillow, she smoothed her fingers across the pillowcase. It was soft satin, pleasantly smooth against her skin. Mirri liked soft things. Soft things and a soft life. A life that was off the streets and a life that opened doors, rather than closed them. Was that really so bad? Was it really so selfish to want a life where she dictated the rules? She could see it in front of her, tantalizingly within reach.

And then there was Chrissy. Mirri could still hear her speaking to the man, promising to bring the man a succubus. Mirri, specifically. 

No, she wasn't going to let Chrissy ruin it for her. Which meant that she had to deal with Chrissy, sooner rather than later. _Without_ Lilian noticing. Mirri didn't need the extra variable of Lilian's reactions going into the mess that was Chrissy and Chrissy's plans. It was hard enough to manage things already. Besides, what could Lilian do? Ward the apartment extra tightly? It was already secure. Chrissy was Mirri's mess to deal with anyway, no need to drag Lilian into a conflict that didn't already include her. 

Mirri climbed out of bed. She had work to do. Starting with figuring out what, exactly, Chrissy had been doing in the decades since the orphanage. 

* * *

Two knives blurred through the air, the second one thrown before the first landed. Both hit their target with inhuman precision-- piercing Twelve's eyes and thudding into the wall behind the picture. It was quite the feat, considering that there wasn't much of her eyes left at this point, just scraps of bronze paper barely held together by the thinnest of fibers. Thankfully they had pictures to spare now. When the picture finally got too cut up, Chrissy could just paste another one over it. She'd already gone through five of them.

She threw another knife. It landed in Twelve's throat. Not quite as pleasing as an eye, but there was a certain satisfaction to imagining the selfish succubus choking on her own blood before she died. The fourth knife would have sliced off Twelve's ear, and the fifth and sixth would have carved open her perfect little cheeks.

It wasn't fair, that she was able to smile and laugh. Not when she'd abandoned everyone to die at the orphanage. Not when she'd spent the days fawned and fussed over by the orphanage owners. They screeched if she got so much as a broken nail or a bruise from one of the others. Chrissy and the others had been forced to share one bare cement room with each other, maybe with a pillow and some blankets if they'd been good or resourceful enough with rags. Twelve had always gotten her own room. Her own room with a bed and blankets and pillows _all to herself._

And she dared to act like it was a great hardship. She dared to whimper and cry like she had it bad while everyone else had to work their fingers to the bone in a stinking pit full of steam so hot it scalded lungs. Chrissy could name everyone she'd lost to that fucking pit. If it hadn't been the pit, it had been the toxic waste they'd handled for the orphanage, sorting out what could be recycled and reused from true trash. She'd tattooed the names of the lost on her arm and the list stretched from wrist to elbow twice over. All of them had burns and scars from whips and beatings.

But pretty little Twelve had never been sent down into the pits. She worked from her bed and she barely had to work at all. The clients did everything, all she had to do was lie there with spread legs and wait for them to be done. How difficult that must have been.

Chrissy snarled and hurled the rest of her knives. She had been too angry-- none of them struck Twelve's face. One didn't even hit the picture. With another growl, she summoned all of her knives back to her hands and started throwing them again. She wished she could put out those bright bronze eyes permanently, rather than just shredding a pale remnant printed on paper.

And look at her now. Mistress to a wealthy woman, dressed in silks and organic fabrics and living in the very lap of luxury. Making her living the exact same way she always had-- on her back and happy about it. Chrissy could care less about that, then the fact that Twelve had always acted as if she hated her job. She'd always whined as if she was being tortured. Hypocrite. She didn't know the meaning of the word. If she didn't need to be in one piece for the Director, Chrissy would have _taught_ her what it meant to be tortured.

Even if she didn't have to find a succubus to save Cassandra, Chrissy would have hunted her down one way or another. And if Chrissy hadn't, Beatrice almost certainly would have. Chrissy hated Twelve, Beatrice loathed her with a passion that bordered on obsession. It had been Beatrice who had found the pictures in the magazine, dropping it in front of Chrissy.

She said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.

Chrissy would be the first to admit that she'd botched the invitation to the party. She'd let too much of her hatred and contempt show through and the stupid succubus had always frightened easily. In her defense, the sight of Twelve dancing in the club had caught Chrissy off guard. Of all the places Chrissy had expected her to be, a common club was not one of them and she certainly hadn't expected Twelve to be alone. Twelve had never been left alone for a second, she always had a client hanging around her, doting on her.

She'd almost left the succubus to be claimed by a wolf or seal, but well, an opportunity had presented itself. If she had played her cards better, she could have instilled a sense of gratitude in Twelve for rescuing her from the hunt. Although maybe Twelve had wanted to be yanked off into a dark corner. Could you even rape a succubus? From what Chrissy had seen, Twelve was always ready and willing, always quick to offer sex as a way to escape consequences. People fell for it every time and someone else suffered in Twelve's place.

She hadn't expected the succubus to loose Eddie so easily. Worse, by the time they'd located her apartment, she'd already run and left no trace for Tristan to track. Chrissy had to spend precious time, magic, and energy in order to track her into the bowels of the city. Then her search had been interrupted by the Director's stupid need to assert power and strength and they'd lost Twelve again.

Chrissy'd come so very close in the Fairy Realm though. So close. None of the fairies would have looked askance at two strangers fighting each other as long as no fairies were hurt. But then the Lord of the Night Spring and their friends had intervened and whisked Twelve away. Chrissy was only half-fairy and she knew that she was only tolerated by the realm. Her welcome had a time limit and she wasn't so foolish as to upset the Lord of the Night Spring. She'd left, steaming in fury.

Which left her here, throwing knives at Twelve's grinning face and wishing that she had the actual succubus to use as target practice instead of a shoddy picture.

Chrissy heard Tristan before she saw him. Despite his muscular bulk, he moved quietly. Only the sound of his claws clicking softly on the hardwood floors gave away his position. She turned to face him as he stepped into the practice room. Behind him was Eddie, whose skin was scaled in patches of rainbow-bright colors. His eyes were large and bulging like a lizard's. They were the color of amber and ripe red fruit, shining wetly in the light of the training room.

"Twelve is back in the apartment," Eddie reported. Behind him, a long tail swayed gently back and forth. "There's some sort of protection on now. I can barely focus enough on it to get close, much less get inside.

"Fairy ward? Or demon?" Chrissy fought the urge to grit her teeth. Sometimes it felt like the world itself favored Twelve. Oh well, her luck would have to run out at some point. And Chrissy would be there, waiting.

"Fairy," Eddie said, without hesitation. "A powerful fairy."

Undoubtedly the Lord of the Night Spring Court's work. Surely Twelve hadn't seduced them. They were a powerful fairy lord and she was-- well, Twelve was Twelve. She couldn't have tricked them either. Most likely she'd just pleased them, and their friends, and they gave her the ward as a favor.

"A minor setback," Chrissy said. "Nothing more. She cannot stay in the apartment forever. Do the bugs you left still work?"

Eddie scratched behind an ear. Skin peeled off in a scaly patch from around a scar. He'd be shedding soon. Chrissy made a mental note to make sure that the pantry was stocked with plenty of lotion and oil. "That's the thing--"

"What?" Chrissy demanded sharply.

Eddie sighed. "She found them and she broke them."

 _That fucking bitch_ , Chrissy's grip on her knife was so tight that her knuckles turned white. "How did she manage outsmart you and find them?"

"I don't know," Eddie protested. "I hid them as best I could."

Tristan reached out and rested a hand on Chrissy's shoulder. "She's paranoid. We all know that."

Chrissy took a deep breath and touched Tristan's hand. Thank the Lords of the Seasons for him. He was a steady rock that she could always return to, keeping her grounded whenever her temper got the best of her. And when it came to Twelve, it usually got the best of her.

"It's not the end of the world," she said. "We'll just have to put a watch on the apartment." They'd have to use the most loyal members of her group, however. The others wouldn't understand and might give Twelve warning. They were already uncertain about handing over another monster as a pet, even if Chrissy had lied and said the captivity would only be temporary-- that they would rescue said pet as soon as possible.

Well, she hadn't exactly been lying then. If it had been another succubus, Chrissy would have gone back to rescue them. Heck, she would have worked with them, maybe convinced them to help spy on the Director for her. But Twelve deserved to rot in slavery, rot in a lab, rot at the bottom of the sea where fishes could nibble away at her bones. Chrissy didn't care where she rotted, only that she rotted somewhere far away from Chrissy.

"There's one more thing." Eddie said uncertainly.

"What?" Chrissy's voice was a bit sharper than she intended it to be. She was already planning patrol schedules.

Eddie took a deep breath. "She sent a message before she destroyed the last one. She wants to meet. Just the two of you, no one else."

Chrissy huffed. "Like Hell." There was no way that she was going to go anywhere alone. The minute Twelve showed up at the meeting was the moment that Chrissy had Tristan drug her and stuff her in a sack.

Eddie spread his hands. "I can only relay the message. She destroyed the bug before I could attempt any sort of communication back."

"Where does she want to meet?" Chrissy asked.

"You can't seriously be thinking--" Tristan began. Chrissy held up her hand and he fell silent. She turned her attention back to Eddie.

Eddie named a cafe known best for its gelatin treats. They truly turned it into an art form. Chrissy had been there several times with Tristan. It was a nice place. Pity Twelve had to sully it with her presence. "She wants to meet today, at noon."

Chrissy snarled. "What? That's too soon." It was in less than two hours. Too short of a time to come up with a reasonable plan to kidnap Twelve off the streets. It would be difficult enough as it was. The cafe was open seating and sat at an intersection of several major streets. And noon was time of high foot traffic. They'd need a few fancy spells to keep from being seen and even then there was no guarantee that they could pull it off without anyone else noticing and causing a racket. Especially if Twelve struggled.

Eddie just shrugged his shoulders. "She also said that it was the only time she would ever listen to what you have to say. If you try to talk to her again, she'll just ignore you."

Bitch. Chrissy wouldn't ascribe intelligence to the situation. Twelve was as stupid as they came. But she had to admit that Twelve had picked the battleground well.

"Where's Bea and Murphy?" Chrissy asked.

"Coming back from Twelve's hideaway," Tristan said. "They're bringing whatever they could find."

"Good," Chrissy called her knives back to her hands and stowed them away. "Have them meet me in the main room. We don't have much time."

Eddie left quickly. Tristan lingered by Chrissy's side, lacing his fingers through hers. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, leaning against his shoulder. Her rock. Her anchor in a stormy sea. She didn't know what she would do without him.

"What are you going to do?" Tristan asked. "I doubt you'll be able to talk her into putting on a collar and walking into the Director's hands. She's too paranoid."

Chrissy had read some of Twelve's books. She'd heard things too over the years. Rumors about how you could control a demon, even against their will. Bits and pieces about true names and how to find them. She had even found an old ritual in a burned book on divining the names of demons. The book had never failed to work for her before. She doubted it would fail now.

But she needed something of Twelve's. Something personal. There had to be something in her little hideaway that Chrissy could use. Even a part of Twelve's name could be wielded against her.

"Let's see what Bea and Murphy have found," Chrissy said. "If I can divine her true name--"

"And if you can't?" Tristan pressed.

"Then I have to resort to other methods," Chrissy shrugged her shoulders. "Charms. Or glamours. Compulsion." They were a bit messier and she wasn't entirely sure how her magic would work on a succubus. "Whatever I have to do."

She started for the door. Tristan followed her and did not speak again.

The apartment unfolded in front of Chrissy. It wasn't a real space. It was like the fairy realm, where little things like space and time lost meaning unless a living mind defined them. It was a gift from Chrissy's father and it had grown over the years until it was more like a small town than an apartment. There were families here now, descendants of monsters that Chrissy had saved and others who had moved in later. The population wasn't consistent. People moved in and out when they found better places.

Cam's family was amongst them. Or they had been. Chrissy would never forgive herself for not seeing the agent for who they really were until it was too late. It had been Cassandra, Cam's great-granddaughter and only inheritor of her gift, who had saved them all from a raid.

And now Cassandra was in the hands of the Director and her freedom and life depended on Chrissy's ability to catch a stupid succubus. The Lords of the Seasons only knew what the labs had done to her already. She'd looked so weak and helpless when the Director had paraded her out for Chrissy's inspection. Fear and hate bubbled in Chrissy's stomach, she tasted it in the back of her throat.

The others met her around the dining table, big enough to fit all of them. It was the original dining table, in the original dining room. Over the years it had grown to accommodate the other families, then shrunk to its original size when the cafeteria was conjured into existence. The walls were paneled in warm wood, with portal-windows looking out over a summery sea and a long stretch of white, untouched beach.

Cassandra's place at the table was noticeably empty. Chrissy tried not to look too long.

Murphy was already there, hair grey and face wrinkled, but her acid green eyes still so very bright. Eddie looked younger, in his middle age. Grey was creeping into his hair and his scales had darkened with age. In comparison, Tristan seemed to be in his prime, as Chrissy did. Beatrice hadn't aged since she turned eighteen.

Perhaps she hadn't. Who knew how long they all could live? Cam's lifespan had been depressingly human. Almost a century's worth of bittersweet years and then she'd been gone.

Beatrice dropped a crate on the table. Inside were blankets and books, clothes and rolls of money. Some of it was ratty, other stuff looked much newer and finer. Even better prizes-- a hairbrush with snarls of fallen strands twisted in the bristles, a few clothes and blankets stained by blood. Chrissy smiled when she saw them, inspecting the pale, silk-soft hair. It was a great as a gift as she could ask for. Something personal was nothing compared to a _piece_ of the demon she wanted to work magic on.

 _Your luck is running out Twelve,_ she thought. She set the hairbrush to the side. The hair should be more than enough to divine Twelve's true name by. If it wasn't, there was always the blood, although Chrissy was a bit leery of it. She couldn't be entirely sure the blood belonged to Twelve. She scanned the remaining items and her attention was drawn to a rose-colored blouse.

Pulling it free of the pile, she spread it across the table. It was finely made, cut from soft silk that slipped like water through her fingers. The impression of Twelve that formed in Chrissy's mind was stronger this time. She chased the connection, strengthened it.

Worry, fear, anxiety. The emotions swam through Chrissy's blood as if they were her own, choking and drowning her, almost crippling in their sheer strength. There was determination there too. Thoughts buzzed at the edge of Chrissy's mind and she reached for them greedily. The bond blurred and broke. Chrissy caught a flicker of amusement and the impression of a finger waved in front of her face. A voice seemed to whisper: Naughty child, leave well enough alone.

She scowled and shook her head to clear it.

"Well?" Beatrice pressed.

"You did good," Chrissy said. She picked up the hairbrush again. It was cheap plastic, worn down by years of use. The handle fit smoothly in Chrissy's hand. She began to pull hair from the bristles and smiled grimly at Beatrice. "Very good."

The cafe was full when Chrissy made it there. She approached the building alone, but the others were scattered around the area, providing a watch against officials and any tricks that Twelve might try. It was much the same as Chrissy remembered it. The seating was open to the elements, with a worked iron fence blocking off the cafe from the street. Fountains and running water made walls between tables, the bubbling sound obscuring conversation as the water itself blurred the figures. The main cafe was housed inside a slightly old-fashioned building, with moldings and lattice work in the shape of rolling waves.

Twelve had made a reservation and given the hostess Chrissy's description. A waitress dressed in a lacy blue uniform escorted Chrissy to a back table, surrounded by fountains that would drown out the sound of the conversation. Twelve's eyes were elsewhere, her gazed fixed on a wall of rippling water. The very sight of her made Chrissy's blood boil.

Twelve was soft. Soft skin, soft hair, soft body untouched by difficulty or hard living. Her skin was smooth, unmarred by any scars and it seemed to glow gently in the light, making the lights of the restaurant seem dull and dim by comparison. Her face was sweet and gentle, plump cheeks and lips like a perfect rosebud. The delicate silk blouse and the fluttering layers of her long skirt only magnified the softness and fragility of her appearance.

Her eyes flicked over to Chrissy. Big, bright, bronze, they filled Chrissy's mind and for a moment, there was nothing Chrissy wanted to do more than protect Twelve against the cruel, cruel world. To take her, to own her, to sequester her away like a priceless treasure.

"Stop that," she snapped at Twelve.

"Stop what?" Twelve had the gall to ask, looking confused. Those big bright eyes seemed to turn shining and molten, as if she was about to cry. Chrissy bit back the sudden urge to apologize and snarled, gripping the bracelet around her wrist.

It was braided thread, white and red and black. Strands of Twelve's hair were woven throughout. It was meant to be protection against Twelve's powers and abilities, but apparently it wasn't as good as Chrissy had thought it would be. Oh well, it had been hastily done. It was still better than nothing.

Twelve's appearance seemed to diminish. The aura of fragility remained, but Chrissy no longer felt the urge to reassure her or to protect her.

"Forget it," Chrissy growled. She sat down on the other side of the table and opened up the menu. Pretending to examine it, she gently probed outward with her magic. She didn't sense any guards hanging around, fairy or otherwise. It made her want to smile. Apparently the fairies weren't that enamored with Twelve. Good. It made Chrissy's job easier, although it was difficult enough with Twelve's choice of venue and time.

"How are you doing?" Twelve asked. She was shifting in place slightly, her fingers fiddling with the ends of her hair. Chrissy didn't need to be an empath to know that Twelve was scared and desperate. She broadcasted those tells for everyone in a mile radius to see.

"Twelve," Chrissy said. "We both know I'm not here to chat."

A waitress stopped by. Twelve ordered one of the fancy, infused waters.

Chrissy folded up her menu and ordered a triple hot fudge brownie with gold leaf sprinkled on top of an oozing honeycomb. It was one of the most expensive treats and Twelve looked like she was in physical pain when Chrissy cheerfully said to put it on Twelve's tab. When the waitress turned back to Twelve expectantly, Twelve hesitantly ordered one of the gelatin treats.

The waitress collected their menus and walked off. The two of them sat in silence.

"It's Mirri, by the way," Twelve said.

"I know, _Twelve_ ," Chrissy savored the flash of hurt on Twelve's face. She leaned back in her chair. "Why call me? Did your precious client throw you out on the streets? Or did you steal from her and run?"

Twelve's expression flashed from hurt to anger. "No, she didn't. And I didn't need to steal."

"So all that money I found tucked away was only yours?" Chrissy sneered. "You're not that good in the sheets. Always squirming and yelping." She'd snuck into Twelve's room several times, wanting to know what was so special about the demon girl no one saw and who got so much special treatment. Well, the first time had been because she was curious, the second and third times were because she wanted to watch. The last time she visited, she saw Twelve speaking quietly to an older man afterward.

When he left, Chrissy had almost told the owners. She had gone back, with Tristan and Beatrice and told Twelve what she had witnessed. Twelve had opened her legs for them without them having to say another word. That had been a fun night.

"It's mine, Chrissy," Twelve said. Her voice quavered unevenly but she held Chrissy's gaze. "Fairly earned. I want it back and anything else you took from me."

"No, I'm keeping the money and all the nice clothes. I know a lot of people who could put them to better use. It's not like you need clothes with your job." Chrissy said. "But I'll be generous. You can have your rags and broken bits of chalk back."

Twelve took a deep breath. "You know what? Forget it. I don't care, have it all. I just want you to leave me alone. I'll even help you. Just leave me alone when we're done."

"Excuse me?" Chrissy barely concealed her delight. She didn't even have to do any convincing. Twelve would just walk right into a trap with open eyes. All in the name of a fair exchange. "I don't need your help."

"I saw her," Twelve said. "The girl. The man has her and he's holding her over you. Yes?"

"Yes," Chrissy agreed. So that's how Twelve ended up in the fairy realms. She'd be impressed if it had been anyone other than bumbling, foolish, pathetic Twelve who had followed her. She was tempted to play along, but she wanted to mess with Twelve, wanted to drag out Twelve's fear. "And if you know that, you know what he wants in exchange for her freedom."

Twelve's eyes dimmed briefly. "I do."

"Then you know it was stupid of you to ask me here," Chrissy said. "And claim that you want to help."

"I did research on you, Chrissy. You like being a hero, bringing down slavers and rescuing slaves. I know that you want to take him down." She twisted her hair into tight ropes.

"So you've done the basic step that anyone with a brain cell can take," Chrissy sneered. "Do you want a medal?" More likely, Twelve had gotten her fairies to do the research. The lazy brat never lifted a finger if she could help it. She was a bit surprised that Twelve had managed to work out that Chrissy wanted to take out the Director, but even a stopped clock could be right twice a day.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you if I'm willing to help? Rather than fighting you?" Twelve asked. "I can help you rescue the girl. But only if you promise to leave me alone. Otherwise I'll vanish and you'll have to find someone else."

Chrissy bared her teeth. Selfish as always. Not helping because it was the right thing to do, helping because it meant she got something she wanted. "Her name is Cassandra, Twelve. Cassandra. Great-granddaughter of Cam."

Cam who always had the worst burns after they'd managed to escape from the orphanage. Cam, who never hated Twelve like the rest of them. Chrissy personally thought that Twelve never deserved that amount of generosity. Twelve's escape attempt had infuriated the owners of the orphanage. They'd taken a whip to everyone they could find and Cam had nearly died from blood loss and infection.

"And my name is Mirri!" Twelve's words burst out like startled birds. She glanced around quickly, alarm written in every movement. Her voice shook slightly as she faced Chrissy. Chrissy had seen scarier. "Use it."

"No," Chrissy said. "You'll always be Twelve." Useless, pathetic, lazy. "But I'll tell you what. You have a deal. Help us get Cassandra back and end one part of the slaver's ring and we'll leave you alone for the rest of your life."

 _Oh I'll leave you alone,_ Chrissy thought. _We'll leave you alone with the dead body and a knife in your hands as the officials knock down the door. And then none of us will ever have to deal with you again._

Twelve hesitated. Chrissy pasted a smile on her face and Twelve hesitantly smiled back. The nervous flicker in Twelve's eye was a good look on her but she wasn't nearly scared enough of Chrissy yet. "Where do we begin?"

"With you understanding that there's no 'we'," Chrissy said. "My team and I will get in contact with you when we're ready to move. All you have to do is follow our orders."

Twelve narrowed her eyes slightly at Chrissy, but didn't protest. Good. Chrissy would have to keep her in her place if she intended to carry out the mission.

Their server came by with Chrissy's brownie and Twelve's dessert. Twelve looked ill at the sight of the brownie, thoroughly dripping with hot fudge sauce and slightly melted ice cream. Her own dessert looked plain in comparison-- a half sphere of perfectly clear gelatin with lavender and lemon arranged neatly at the center of it. Twelve thanked the waitress nervously as the waitress set a glass full of infused water in front of her.

Twelve picked up the water and started sipping from it. She was obviously trying not to look at the brownie and Chrissy had to laugh at how pale and sickly her face had gotten.

"Maybe you'd like some of mine?" Chrissy taunted. She dug her spoon into the soft brownie and held it out to Twelve. Hot fudge dripped off of the spoon. Twelve's expression was priceless as she quickly shook her head. Chrissy smirked at Twelve and then ate the spoonful of brownie slowly, savoring the taste of rich chocolate and the way that Twelve's face paled even further. "More for me then. You're missing out. It tastes so good."

Twelve stabbed her spoon into her gelatin treat and didn't say a word.

* * *

Mirri didn't like brownies.

She had, at one point. She'd liked the fake-chocolate-and-cheap-sugar kind that the orphanage had dolled out on holidays because the factories needed a way to get rid of the ones that failed inspection. Sugar had been her great weakness-- she would do anything for a bit of candy. But that had been when she was ten, before her wings came in.

After her wings came in, the clients the orphanage had arranged sometimes liked to feed her their own version of 'brownies', where the only similarity was the color, and sometimes the shape if the client was feeling particularly cruel. Mirri hadn't exactly been kidding when she'd said she'd eaten fecal matter before. It hadn't even always been human. She had done anything-- everything-- to please clients and avoid beatings. (The beatings came anyway. Some clients liked to see bruises form on her skin just because.)

She didn't have much appetite before Chrissy had started devouring the brownie in front of her. The few bites of the gelatin dessert she'd managed to bite down settled heavily in her stomach and knotted it up as if she'd eaten stones. That was going to come up sooner or later, she thought, and Chrissy seemed determined to make it sooner rather than later.

Chrissy explained how they would make contact with Mirri when they were done. Mirri kept her eyes off of the oozing chocolate dessert, trying to keep her upset stomach from churning even more. The scent of it was divine, but the sight of it reminded her too much of her little room in the back of the orphanage with its cot and its chain around her ankle and the clients that never seemed to end. (Some liked the fact that she was bloody and bruised by the time they got her, pressing their thumbs into her raw skin just to hear her scream.)

"Are you even listening to me?" Chrissy demanded.

Mirri blinked at her sluggishly, trying to slip back into the body she'd inadvertently divorced herself from. "I'm listening. I'm to visit Crescent Bites once a week. You or one of the others will meet me there to give me instructions."

Chrissy snorted as she ate another sporkful of brownie. "So something I said did penetrate that thick skull of yours."

Hot fudge swirled in molten ice cream like black blood in water on white cement. Mirri closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she shakily finished off her water. She stabbed at her jello cake. It tasted faintly of lavender and lemon and slid down her throat like cold slime.

"Are you okay?" Chrissy asked, her voice all false sweetness. "You look a little green around the gills there, Twelve."

"I'm fine," Mirri lied and took another bite of lavender-flavored slime. Her stomach rebelled. "Thank you."

They didn't have much to say to each other after the instructions were given. Mirri was grateful when Chrissy left, packing up her brownie into a to-go box. Mirri took her time finishing her own treat. It did taste good, she admitted. She might have enjoyed it, if she'd had better company.

Mirri paid for the desserts using the funds Lilian had left her. She left with another rush of people, the turning of the lunch schedules. She could sense someone following her and caught sight of a large man from the corner of her eye. And then a woman, flanking her other side.

Mirri's hand touched the pendant hanging from a cord underneath her blouse. It seemed to pulse with her heartbeat, smooth but rippled like woven roots. It was certainly warm to the touch, warmer than it should have been as if it sensed the danger she was in.

They followed her to the apartment building but didn't try anything as she stepped inside. Mirri's shaking hands entered the number for Lilian's apartment. They didn't turn away until the doors of the elevator had closed. The message was clear-- Mirri was safe in the building but the minute she stepped outside, she was prey.  
Prey that had struck a deal with her predators, but prey nonetheless. And while Mirri believed that Chrissy would use her to get Cassandra and at the man, Mirri also believed that Chrissy had no intention of going back for Mirri afterward.

Mirri would have to take care of herself. That was okay. She always had, in a way. Unlike Chrissy, with her band of friends and followers, Mirri had never had anyone to rely upon when things went wrong. No one to rescue her.

Her stomach was twisting itself into knots, churning in a way that made her think that somehow Chrissy had managed to poison her. Mirri staggered inside the apartment and barely made it to the kitchen in time. The gelatin in her stomach quickly found its way into the sink. It tasted much the same as it had going down (faintly of lavender and lemon), and it was accompanied by copious amounts of a clear, tasteless mucus rather than sour bile.

Bits of her anatomy textbook scrolled through Mirri's head as she hacked up more mucus, her body still rebelling against what she'd put in it: _While immature succubi produce gastric juices capable of the food they are given, mature succubi produce nothing of the sort. While bodily fluids are processed--_

What goes in, must eventually come out. At least the gelatin didn't make too much of a mess. Mirri rinsed it down the sink somewhat regretfully. She thought of the jello treat at the cafe Lilian had taken her to, at water flavored with emotion and memory. Her stomach settled down quickly as the last of the gelatin disappeared down the sink.

She pulled the pendant out from underneath her blouse. Her hands slid over petrified wood, polished to a smooth shine. It was a knot of roots, simple in appearance and sleeping now. Certainly the warmth it had held earlier was gone now. She could feel the dormant power in it, a spell that could bring her back to wherever she'd placed the beacon it was matched to.

It would only work once a day, so she hadn't tested it out. Mirri wasn't entirely sure she trusted the fairies, but she did trust that their work was good and that what they'd given her was what they said it was. It wasn't the only thing she'd asked for, but it had been the simplest to make and the fairies had assured her that they'd be back with the other items by the end of the week. They had no reason to lie, after all. She wasn't part of their politics, just a small and temporary knot in their lives.

Mirri tightened her hand around the pendant, then released it. She hated leaving her fate in Chrissy's hands, but she'd put the offer forward and she'd made the deal. There was nothing else she could do until Chrissy got back in contact with her again.

Her eyes wound over the room and found her pile of books on the table. Mirri wasn't in the mood to read but-- well, the day after tomorrow, Lilian would be back. And Mirri wasn't exactly sure how much time she had with the incubus after that. She hadn't realized how much that thought pained her, for all the anxiety that surrounded the mere thought of Lilian.

Did trust matter, when she might only have a few weeks left to be free? Her plan could go wrong in so many horrible ways. Did she really want to spend all of it dancing around Lilian? Mirri might spend the rest of her life traded between masters who cared nothing for the comfort and pleasure of the slave they held if she couldn't get away in time. She might die.

Happiness came in small doses, she had to take what she was given and enjoy it while she could, because she never knew when the sun might shine again.


	22. Sixteen - Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian attends a royal feast

The preparations for the feast consumed the few hours Lilian had after the executions. Executions required fancy clothes, a dress uniform pressed to perfection. A feast was an entirely different animal, one that Lilian never really had a taste for. When she had the chance, she preferred to avoid all the social features that came from living in high society. So far she'd been successful, using her job as a busy general catching up on work to shield her from party invites. But as the High General and the queen's betrothed, attendance at the victory feast wasn't optional at the best of times.

Succubi stripped Lilian out of her clothes as soon as she returned to her apartments. A second later, they had her in a warm bath full of herbs and spices and thoroughly washed imaginary blood off of her. Lilian didn't have a chance to enjoy the bath or the fact that Sabine joined her. There was no time because the succubi presented them both with feasting robes and boxes of jewelry. They'd all been pre-selected from appropriate reserves, but Lilian had put off the final selection until the last second. In the end, Sabine picked for Lilian, deciding on a one of the black robes with a pattern of burning feathers.

Then they were being hurried out of the bath. The succubi dried Lilian and then started to rub sweet-smelling oils into Lilian's skin to make it shine gentle. They pushed Lilian into a chair and took a buffing block to Lilian's tentacles, thoroughly polishing every last scale until it gleamed like a dark jewel. Her claws were filed to sharp points before being fitted with gold caps encrusted with rubies and diamonds. Another pair of succubi combed out Lilian's hair and braided it with gold chains and drops of precious stones. At Lilian's insistence, the braid was wound into a coil at the base of Lilian's neck and pinned securely in place.

Lilian was a general. She still had to look like one, even dressed up as she was.

Sabine was getting a similar treatment beside Lilian, although the succubi had far less work to do on the queen than they did on Lilian. While Sabine waited for Lilian's claws and tentacles to be done, she went over the feast plans with a magnifying glass. The plans had been in place for days, of course and nothing except the rebirth of the Archdemons would change them. But there were always small problems to be revealed and fixed, no matter how well-planned the event was.

Lilian had let the scrape of files lull her into a lazy state of mind. For some reason, thoughts of Isabelle rose up. The incubus had been part of Lilian's friend group at one point. They'd been _lovers_ at one point, even. But Isabelle had born to a wealthy house and she was skilled at training succubi. The two of them had been doomed from the start, even if they hadn't seen it. After their eventual and brutal breakup, they'd made up but they were still distant from each other. Truthfully, Lilian went out of her way to avoid the other incubus.

Sabine let out a growl. "Of all the things to forget!"

"What is it?" Lilian asked.

"Forget it, my love," Sabine's voice was silky. "It's not vital. Just a small error."

Lilian raised an eyebrow at Sabine, but laid back. One of the succubi had taken a buffing block to a particularly sensitive tentacle and was working hard to ensure that Lilian was only experiencing a pleasant massage, rather than a rough polishing. Lilian's tentacles tried to wrap around the succubus in question and Lilian pulled them away, quietly admonishing the limbs. Sometimes she wished they were a bit less independent than they actually were.

Sabine summoned an incubus and dismissed them shortly afterward.

Lilian put the matter out of her mind. She'd been thinking of something important... Oh, right, Isabelle. Isabelle had trained succubi for many important auction houses, ensuring that the finished product was as submissive as they could possibly be. She'd even been active at the training house where Lilian's kitten had originally been raised, but Lilian didn't think that Isabelle had a hand in her kitten's training. Her kitten had been slated for the palace since the formation of her egg and Isabelle would have only been a journeyman at the time and likely wouldn't have been trusted with a Class-A succubus. Errolr could probably tell Lilian for sure.

Still, there was something about Isabelle that bothered Lilian. She just wished she knew what.

"Mistress," one of the succubi said. "You're done. We have your robe ready."

Lilian climbed out of the seat and made her way into Sabine's bedroom. Lilian's robe was stretched out on the bed. It was simple black silk, almost sheer if it weren't for the gold and red feathers embroidered upon it. Diamonds, rubies, and pearls gleamed as they made sparkling accents to the robe. Lilian pulled the robe on and the weight was heavier than she had originally expected as the succubi fastened hidden knots and buttons. Lilian sighed as a gold belt was wrapped around her waist, her ceremonial sword fastened to it. She felt underdressed, but no one went to a feast wearing more than a single layer of clothes.

They were hardly necessary, after all.

"I'm going to check on Errolr," Lilian told Sabine. Sabine waved her hand as she frowned down at a guest list and several emergencies that incubi servants had run up to her with. Lilian waited a second longer to see if Sabine needed anything and then slipped into the small side room that Errolr could retreat to when he wasn't being played with. There was no door, just a sheer curtain hanging in the doorway. Errolr's bed was tucked up against the corner of one wall, a circular mattress lined with pillows and blankets. A luxurious gift for a pet.

He was being prepared, just as Sabine and Lilian were. Like them, he'd been freshly bathed and rubbed down with oil. Unlike them, succubi skilled in the art of ornamentation had painted his skin with curling gold vines and fastened sparkling gemstones to his skin. He wore a golden collar with an intricate, abstract design. Gold rings had been put in his ears and nipples, dangling with precious stones. When he opened his mouth, Lilian saw a line of studs on his tongue.

He looked beautiful, Lilian thought idly. Beautiful in the same way that fine statues were beautiful. It was a sexless, aesthetic sort of beauty. He was a piece of art and it was a shame that all of their hard work would soon be ruined. Feasts had a way of being hard on the succubi who participated in them and even the most stubborn, enchanted paint could rub away during the exertion required during a feast.

"Mistress," Errolr kneeled. So did the succubi that surrounded him.

"Return to your work," she said. "I merely wish to know how things are going."

"Excellently, mistress," one succubus said. "He is almost done."

"Very good," Lilian said. She watched as the succubi spread glitter in Errolr's hair so that it sparkled. They took their time painting his wings and making patterns in the fluff of his tail and hair. No jewelry, no cloth. Those belonged to the incubi. During feasts, the succubi wore nothing but their collars and the paint on their bodies. They were there to be enjoyed and nothing else.

With the glitter applied, the ornamentation succubi had nothing else to do. Lilian dismissed them with a gentle smile.

"Do you need something, Mistress?" Errolr asked. He sounded strangely hopeful. "I could please you."

"And ruin all of their work?" Lilian asked. "No, I have a question for you. Do you remember who trained my kitten?"

Errolr's face fell. "I-- of course. Give me a moment to remember." He paused, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side. "She was never told a name, Mistress. But it was an older man, most of the time. Occasionally an older woman to help teach her how to please a female incubus."

Lilian sighed. She hadn't _expected_ Isabelle to play a part, but part of her had hoped for easy answers. "Thank you, Errolr."

"Can I ask why you want to know, Mistress?" he asked. "Perhaps I could help you? I don't have many useful memories--"

Lilian reached out to ruffle his hair, then remembered the glitter and thought better of it. She settled for cupping his face with her hand and pressing a kiss to his forehead. That wouldn't disturb too much paint or too many gemstones. And hopefully it would strike home the impression that she wasn't _interested_ in him. "I'm afraid I'm can't tell you, lovely one. Don't fret about it. I was taking a gamble regardless."

"I'm sorry I'm not more useful, Mistress," Errolr said. He _looked_ sorry, staring at her with big eyes that had begun to water. "I want to help, Mistress. I do."

"I know--"

"LIlian!" Sabine trilled from the main room. "Please come in here. And bring Errolr too. I wish to inspect him."

Lilian slipped out of the room. Errolr was a step behind her, his tail held low.

A quintet of succubi stood in a line against the bed They were naked save for their gemstone-encrusted collars and their skin was painted and ornamented with jewels. They trembled slightly in front of Lilian as Lilian walked up to them. They were different in color and in height, but they all had a sweetly soft appearance, an aura of vulnerability that made Lilian long to protect them. Their wings were painted like the wings of a glass hummingbird-- jewel-colored and so incredibly fragile.

"What is this?" Lilian asked, trying her best to keep the sharpness from her voice.

"Some idiot forgot to assign you a succubus for the feast," Sabine said. She sounded irritated, but the irritation slipped from her voice when she spotted Errolr. She circled around him, making appreciative noises as he stood still. "Apparently he made the mistake of assuming you and I would share Errolr."

No incubus would go unattended at the feast. Aside from the succubi providing entertainment and atmosphere, there would be one or more sitting at the heels of their masters, favored pets that the incubi couldn't do without. Even if Sabine shared Errolr with Lilian, Lilian should have her own succubus. Anything else was a declaration of weakness, an implication that the palace wasn't wealthy enough to provide both queen and consort with their own personal pets.

Lilian looked down at their sweet faces and saw terror reflected back at her. The feasts were neither kind nor gentle on the succubi.

"I'll take those two," she said, indicating the two that looked the most terrified. Picking all five would be the height of greed and that would cause further unrest and muttering in the ranks. Archdemons, but how she wanted to gather them all up and protect them from harm and torment. Not picking any would be just as bad. Judging from their attire, they were slated to be part of the feast anyway, likely meant for the general pool of succubi offered to officers who couldn't afford their own succubi pet. She couldn't protect them if they were there. She couldn't protect any of the succubi at all when they needed her most.

But she could ensure that two of them had an easier time. It wasn't protection. It wasn't what they deserved. Lilian wasn't even sure it was a better fate.

But it was something she could do. Some small bit of peace she could offer them.

"Excellent," Sabine snapped her fingers. The three that hadn't been selected went one way, their steps meek and resigned to their fate. The two that had been picked stood nervously in front of Lilian as more descended upon them, touching up here and there. Their collars were changed out for the ones that Lilian used-- sleek black leather with a serpent pendant, all of it set with glinting rubies. Errolr edged closer to them when he thought Lilian and Sabine weren't looking, murmuring gentle reassurances.

"You look beautiful, by the way," Sabine said. She was the beautiful one, Lilian thought. Sabine's black robe was intricately embroidered with shining spheres and circles in dizzying patterns. Her crown glinted against her hair, lovely as always. And her eyes sparkled with only a touch of makeup to accentuate them.

Lilian licked her lips and tasted waxy paint. "Sabine--"

"Yes, my love?" Sabine asked. She blinked her beautiful eyes in Lilian's direction. "What is it?"

"We need to talk," Lilian said. She glanced at the succubi in the room and reached out to draw Lilian away, into the gardens where no one was around to hear them. She had a feeling it might lead to a shouting match. Sabine dug in her heels whenever someone told her she'd done the wrong thing. She tended to react better if it was only her and Lilian, with no one to see her admitting to doing something bad. "Privately. About what happened earlier today."

"Nothing happened," Sabine waved it away.

" _Sabine_ ," Lilian pressed. The bit of Sabine's true name that Lilian knew hung on her tongue. She wanted to use it, if only to get Sabine's attention. Lilian held back but it was a near thing. Sabine might like Lilian murmuring her Name when they were in bed together and Lilian was dominating. But to use it in any other way invited a fight that Lilian didn't want to be in. "Please."

Sabine opened her mouth, but then incubi knocked on the door to the apartment.

There was no time left to talk.

Now there was nothing but the feast.

The feasting hall was a grand space, with multiple tiers of seating. High, vaulted ceilings held delicate paintings that depicted the fall of the Archdemons and the rise of the kings and queens of hell. They showed the wars that had been fought with the angels and the battles and triumphs of the incubi. Nestled between scenes of violence and torture were scenes of succubi sitting tamely at the tentacles of their masters.

The ceiling was held up by pillars of carved marble, black as night. The floor was onyx, polished to a mirror shine. Banners hung from the railings of the galleries, displaying the crests of the nobility and the arms of other important demons.

The officers were placed all along one wall to Lilian's left, the nobles to Sabine's right. Lilian and Sabine shared their balcony with no one, sitting alone save for the succubi pets they had attending them. Errolr lounged near the front of the balcony at Sabine's instruction, a blatant show of favoritism to House Nyxaelle that would undoubtedly cause a stir.

Lilian kept her chosen succubi back, beside her. They were both anxious little things and after checking the numbers tattooed on the back of their ears, Lilian could see why. They were only twenty, young for humans and younger still for demons. Young enough for this to have been the first feast they had to serve at, with the stories of the older succubi adding to their fears.

Lilian lounged back on the black cushions and pillows provided to the royals. Their thrones were more like divans, long enough for them to stretch out comfortably on and big enough to accommodate an incubus and succubus (or several succubi) without too much crowding. Sabine leaned across her own throne so that her head was close to Lilian's.

"Look at Nyxaelle," the queen whispered to Lilian.

Lilian looked over the ranks of the nobility. The High Lord of Nyxaelle had a pleased expression as he took in Errolr's position near the front of the balcony. The High Lords and Ladies around him were less pleased. Their hands rested on the back of their succubi's necks and Lilian did not envy the succubi as the nobles threw petty barbs at each other.

The High Lord's expression abruptly soured as he looked in one direction. Lilian glanced over and spotted Azira, striding down the center of the feasting hall. She was arm-in-arm with her husband, a pair of palace succubi trotting beside them.

"Interesting," Lilian murmured back. She beckoned to the two succubi and drew them up so that they sat beside her. She could feel them trembling in place despite the effort they took to hold still. "Perhaps you should speak to him at the auction."

The High Lord of Nyxaelle would be present to assess the succubi of his rival houses after all. One didn't earn vast fortunes by sitting on one's laurels.

Sabine's teeth gleamed white as she smiled ever so slightly. "Perhaps _you_ should."

"Me, my queen?" Lilian asked.

"It's well-known that we fought," Sabine murmured. "Perhaps there are people who would be willing to whisper in your ears."

"I'll keep them open then," Lilian shifted position slightly. She wrapped a tentacle around the shoulders of one of her succubi, one with a round, pale face like the moon and bright silver eyes. She stroked the succubus's shoulders gently with her tentacle until the quivering woman relaxed and then tenderly guided the succubus down to lay within Lilian's arms.

The second succubus, with eyes and hair of gold had wings that flitted about like a hummingbird's. Lilian massaged her back and shoulders as well, ensnaring the succubus in tentacles and holding just tight enough to say ' _You're mine, no one will touch you but me'_.

Eventually the golden succubus relaxed as well. She lay against the silver succubus, using the silver's gently curving belly as a pillow for her head. Lilian stroked their heads gently, murmuring soft reassurances in their ears. Their hair felt like fine silk against her fingers, but it was still not nearly as soft as Mirri's.

The feast would last for some time, until the incubi's desires had been sated by sweet succubi submission. Lilian would let her pair rest for now, privately naming them Sun and Moon for their gold and silver appearances. She momentarily considered keeping them for herself--

But neither could hold a candle to Mirri and it was Mirri who Lilian longed to hold instead.

"I wish you would stay," Sabine said. "I miss having you here."

"I need to finish matters up in Thalassia," Lilian said easily.

"I'm aware," Sabine sighed. "Perhaps I shall follow you there." She wiggled her eyebrows and Lilian laughed despite the fear that Sabine's words sent shooting through her.

"I'm not entirely sure that's a good idea," Lilian said. "The incubi need you here, my queen. We'll be wed soon enough."

Sabine smiled, the gleam of her teeth seen once again. "So we will, my love, so we will." She leaned closer to Lilian and whispered the first few syllables of Lilian's Name. Lilian shuddered as they rolled through her, her tentacles tightening around her succubi, who tensed up once more.

Lilian soothed them again as Sabine chuckled. A few stragglers entered the feasting hall, the incubi that made a show of being fashionably late. They received several glares from some people. Others were merely amused as they fondled their pets to whet their appetite.

The lights in the great feast hall dimmed, leaving a gleaming spotlight at the center of the hall, which was bare of people. Shadows rippled across the spotlight as succubi glided down from the ceiling, leaping from invisible platforms. Light flashed off of wings painted with oranges and pinks and gleaming, soft ivories, with the rippling edges of petals. The succubi swirled through the air in circles, as if caught up on an invisible wind.

Despite herself, Lilian's breath caught. However she felt about the nature of a feast, it was a blend of art and sex, graceful dance and all-encompassing pleasure. A feast for the eyes as well as one's lustful hunger.

The performers set down on the ground. Fine chains of gold, copper, and silver bound rippling silks around their hips. The circles they formed up in looked like intricate flowers, made of a dizzying puzzle of limbs and beating wings and silk. A drum began to beat slowly and the succubi danced to it, swaying as they turned and twisted.

A flower, a collection of petals, a flower again. A flute joined in, and then a string instrument. The song hung in the air, haunting like the stillness of the world before a storm came. And then a succubus began to sing, the singer's voice clear and piercing, angelic in its own right. It filled the feast hall, an ancient song about the strength of the wind and the petals that it carried aloft into the sky, regardless of the petal's desire to stay with its fellows on the ground

An ancient song of succubi submission and incubi strength. Lilian's kitten had often sung it to herself in the quiet moments of the dawn when she'd thought that Lilian was asleep. There was a mournful inevitability to the song, for no flower could withstand the force of a storm.

Oil-sheened hips undulated, tails released rich and heady perfumes as they flicked through the air. Light caught on elegant lines made by graceful limbs. Ripples of silk fluttered in the air, spinning around bare bodies and trailing from ever-moving wings. The beating drums sped up like a beating heart as the succubi danced. Bells on their ankles chimed sweetly with every step. In a flurry of movement, the petals began to pair off with each other, touching breast and thigh and wings in ever-more complex swirls.

A chorus of voices joined the solo singer, one after another in a round of song. It built to a crescendo as several succubi let themselves fall to the floor and others on top of them. To the beat of the song, they teased each other with lips and fingers and with every flick of their tails, their sweet pheromones built in the air. Desire, need, lust-- it was the most delicious aroma.

The tempo changed, a flurry of winds, a speeding of the heart and of the storm. The succubi shifted again, changing partners, changing positions. They were always in movement, faces flush with exertion and half-finished need as they twirled and spun into new positions. Lilian's succubi were affected by the pheromones, fiddling nervously with their tails and wings. Errolr's sword was errect and his skin was flushed. Gold spun beneath their skin, tendrils of grace that lit up the dark chamber.

For Lilian, the sensation was pleasant but she could sense a growing impatience in herself. A need for their soft flesh, for their sweet cries. She held still. It was the height of rudeness to eat before the show was done. Even when the show itself was meant to arouse one's hunger.

The storm winds slowed as the music slowed. The singer sang alone now, about sunny meadows and gentle rains. Still dancing, the succubi slowed as well, some drifting down to the ground with their partners above them. Lips pressed against smooth skin, fingers found swords and sheaths and came away dripping. Wings lifted and fell, arms stretched out gracefully. At the center was a group of succubi painted in shades of ivory, lovingly and tenderly stroking each other.

An incubus stepped out of the curtains that lead to the entrance of the balcony. She was dressed in the palace's uniform, a simple jacket of red and black with gold buttons up the side.

"Your majesty?" she murmured. "Pardon my interruption."

"What is it?" Sabine asked.

"It's Lord Lysan and Lord Rhysare. They wish to speak to you."

Lilian looked over at Sabine and frowned. It took her a moment to place the names, but her frown only deepened when she did. Both were lesser members of the Parliament. Neither truly had a right to request the queen's presence, much less during a feast of this importance. "Now?"

Sabine reached over and rested her hand on Lilian's shoulder. "It's alright, my love. I know what they want."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Lilian muttered.

Sabine leaned down and kissed Lilian. It was a deep kiss, one that ignited the fire that had been slowly building within Lilian. "Stay. I'll be back soon."

Lilian looked over her shoulder and frowned slightly as Sabine slipped through the curtains. She tamped down the feeling as her succubi looked up at her, obviously confused by what had just gone on. Lilian reassured them with murmurs and gentle touches and the succubi calmed once more, lying back down against Lilian's side.

In the center, the succubi performers had settled even more, nuzzling up against each other, limbs entwined as they slowly sank completely to the ground. Their petal wings fluttered and lay still, occasionally shuffling as the music swelled and fell in gentle, rolling waves. Tails waved lazily, a sweeter scent overcoming the yearning desperation of before. Lilian inhaled again, feeling it settle over her. The singer's haunting voice faded slowly away, a ring of other voices echoing her words fading with it.

The succubi performers climaxed in a wave, gold light dancing across their bodies and wings, leaping into the air in graceful arcs that turned the air into a glowing afternoon haze.

The music changed, drums rumbling and crashing like thunder as a flurry of darkness descended from the ceiling. More performers still succubi, all in streaming black silks. Whips cracked through the air like a storm wind yanking limbs from trees and snaps of white like lightning accompanied the drums. It struck the feet of the petal succubi, who leapt up from the ground and were whisked into a new frenzy of dance and sex and desire.

The singer raised her voice again, high and mournful as she started the song anew and another singer rose to meet it. It was a poem about the lightning strike of pain, of the strength and power of mastery, the wild joy of submission and dominance. It was a master's reply to the succubi's lament, almost as old as the lament itself.

Sabine returned near the end of it, settling down again in her throne. Her tentacles wrapped around Errolr's wrists and ankles, an anxious, possessive grip.

"What was that about?" Lilian asked. "What did they want?"

"Nothing important my love," Sabine said, pressing a hand gently to Lilian's cheek.

"Sabine, we rise and fall together," Lilian murmured, echoing the words of the oath she'd sworn when she had pledged herself to marry the queen. "Your burdens are also mine to bear. Let me help."

Crackling grace sprung from the wings of the succubi, a lightning in and of itself. Lilian could taste the energy and it fanned the fire inside of her hotter. The succubi tangled in her limbs nuzzled each other as much as they could without actually touching, frustrated and needy. Their tails waved in the air, letting off pheromones of hunger and lust.

As the drums rumbled violent thunder, Sabine leaned over and kissed the tip of Lilian's ear. In a voice barely loud enough to be heard over the drums, she spoke softly. "How would you like to be the general who helped forge an empire, Lilian?"

"What?" Lilian breathed back.

"They told me of weaknesses in the Kingdom of Wrath," Sabine said quietly. "They are splintered into factions, all warring with each other. They're ready to fall, if we give them a little push in the right direction."

"We just fought a rebellion--!" Lilian hissed back.

"Because our people are bored," Sabine said. "Think about it, Lilian. We've fought to defend oursevles, and only that. There are too many incubi squabbling over wealth and land and there's only so much. Estates becomes smaller and more splintered every year. The rebellions are a vent, they're a symptom, not the problem itself. But give them a fight, an enemy--"

Lilian could see the logic, terrible as it was. Give them a common enemy and they would no longer turn their eyes to the crown. Give the houses a chance to rule vast lands rather than dwindling patches and their ambition would be slaked, at least for a time. Start a war to distract the people from everything going on at the core of the kingdom. It was the oldest and bloodiest trick in a ruler's book. And Archdemons, there was a part of her that wanted to face up against a foe that didn't wear a face she knew. The rebellions had taken their toll on the incubi and succubi alike. Archdemons forgive her, there was a part of her that was bored with peace and came alive at the thought of war.

"Wrath first," Sabine murmured. "Then Sloth. Envy and Greed will attack us and we will conquer them in time. Pride will stand alone until it falls. You would be consort to an empress, Lilian. You would help me rule all of hell. Think about it, my love."

Oh Archdemons. Lilian was thinking about it. She turned her gaze to the succubi in her lap, trembling with their desire. She handled them tenderly, but there was still a part of her that was built to be a predator, to fight and to dominate and to take what was hers, whatever she wanted.

"You," Sabine breathed in Lilian's ear. "Me and all of hell tangled in our tentacles, kneeling at our hands."

It was a tantalising dream.

"What about the council?" Lilian asked. "The Parliament?"

"Don't," Sabine's smile grew. "Worry about them."

"But--" Lilian pressed.

Sabine's eyes flashed dangerously and Lilian fell silent.

The succubi singer's voice lifted higher, the note piercing as she sang the last verse. The petal submitted to the fierce storm winds. The male singer's voice lifted as well as hers fell, protection and satisfaction as they took a fragile petal into their care.

The dancers were an explosion of pink and orange and flashing white. They leapt outward from their circles, taking to the air in a storm of beating wings. The black-painted succubi joined them, chasing them, surrounding them and they seemed to be the wind as they whisked the petal succubi into a greater and greater frenzy as the song reached its final stages.

The music fell again. The petals drifted slowly back to the ground, each one finding an incubus to stand before. An ivory petal settled before Sabine, long and lean. He was far more graceful than Errolr, in shape and form. A pink petal settled before Lilian, delicate and fragile beauty like a porcelain doll. Both had eyes glazed with lust and heat, dripping and ready to be used.

The petals sang the last verse again, without music as they kneeled down before the incubi, the picture of perfect submission. The black-painted succubi took their place at the center of the feasting hall, standing perfectly still.

Sabine climbed to her feet and turned to face the crowd. Lilian joined her, gently nudging aside the succubi that leaned up against her. She set her hand into Sabine's, the queen smiling down at her as they turned to face the gathered incubi.

"My dearest people," Sabine said. "Tonight we celebrate yet another victory against our enemies. The crown stands strong because you all stand strong. Because of your loyalty, we are a force to be reckoned with, a force that even the angels cannot beat."

Ragged applause sounded.

"To us!" Sabine said. "The night is for us and our victory! Everyone, let us feast!"

That was the signal. The petal succubi were pulled into waiting laps, and pets joined in as the incubi began to sate their lust. Sabine turned back to Lilian, smiling victoriously. Her eyes shone with the fire that Lilian had fallen in love with. She held out her hand to Lilian and Lilian accepted it as Sabine lead them back to their thrones. She opened her robe, flicked the sides apart with her fingers and beckoned to Errolr and the petal.

Lilian leaned back against her throne. She took careful breaths, steeling herself against her own instincts. _Gentle. Kind._ She would not leave these helpless succubi traumatized and afraid. She would give them as much pleasure as they gave her.

"Come," she said to the succubi before her. Her petal, her Sun and her Moon all edged closer. Lilian relaxed her tentacles, let them wander where they wished as she pulled the succubi onto the couch with her. "Let us all feast."

There were twelve courses to the feast. Twelve performances, twelve succubi who kneeled before her, presenting themselves for her pleasure. Twelve unique types of pleasure, to satisfy any appetite. It was exhausting, serving them as much as they served her. Sabine could care less, taking what she wished from the succubi who presented themselves to her.

By the end of it, the feasting hall was a mess of blood and bodily fluids. Once the succubi served, they limped away into the shadows and were quickly replaced by the succubi after them. Only the pets stayed beside their masters, growing more and more haggard and pale as the night continued on. In contrast, the incubi grew ever more vibrant and colorful. Cries of pain mixed with cries of pleasure and it soon became impossible to tell which was which.

Lilian left after the last course, instructing incubi watchers to have her Sun and Moon bathed and put on light duties for the next few days. She took a bath herself, somehow summoning up enough energy to dry herself and slink into her bed.

Her bracelet was glowing, alight with a delicate ruby light.

Lilian stared at it. Then she remembered. Mirri. She'd promised to talk to Mirri.

She picked up the bracelet and activated it, setting it down on the pillow beside her. Mirri seemed to perch mid-air, hovering in place. The sight of her was a balm to the spirit and Lilian found energy to smile.

"Hey, Kitten."

"Are you okay?" Mirri asked, tilting her head.

"There was a feast," Lilian said. "It took a lot out of me."

"A feast? But we don't eat," Mirri frowned slightly. "How does that even work?"

Lilian didn't have the energy to describe what they did to Mirri. How much the succubi they had suffered. She didn't want to disappoint her kitten and her soul rent itself in two. "We have an orgy, kitten. With succubi."

"So?" Mirri asked.

"It's not exactly gentle on the succubi," Lilian said softly. "Remember what we discussed about fantasies? How I like playing the part of a predator? Imagine that, but nothing to stop me. Not no, not laws, not anything. For everything you don't want to do."

"Oh," it was little more than a soft sound. Some brightness left Mirri's eyes. She was a bit more guarded when she spoke next, as if bracing herself for something. "And you-- you did that? To them?"

"No," Lilian said. "I tried to be gentle."

Whatever Mirri expected, the answer seemed to confuse her. She relaxed, but she also frowned at Lilian. Part of Lilian's heart broke at the obvious lack of trust that Mirri displayed. Whether or not she knew it, she obviously didn't think that Lilian would control herself if there was nothing to stop her.

"Kitten," Lilian said. "The older I get, the less pleasure I get from seeing people in pain." Well, yes and no. Lilian was still a sadist, a fact that Mirri would eventually figure out even if she never let Lilian whip her. Lilian did like causing pain, she liked being rough and she even liked hurting people. But hurting someone and making them suffer-- breaking them-- those were two very different games.

"It's not that," Mirri said. "It's just--" She trailed off.

"You don't trust me, do you, Kitten?" Lilian asked.

"I trust you," Mirri said defensively.

Lilian raised an eyebrow at her.

Mirri sighed and her shoulders drooped. "I just-- it's hard to explain."

Lilian folded her arms underneath her and rested her head on the pillow. "I'm listening, Kitten. Take all the time you need."

Mirri fiddled with the tassel on a pillow. Then she swallowed. Her voice shook when she spoke, and her words came out quickly as if she was afraid she would never be able to say them again. "Every time someone has had power over me, they've-- they've hurt me. I guess I'm used to thinking that's always the case."

Lilian fought back a _'Who was it, where are they, and would you like me to kill them slowly or quickly?'_ That would be counterproductive and fundamentally selfish. The revenge would be for Lilian's sake, rather than Mirri's. But she couldn't help the surge of fury that came with the thought that someone had _hurt_ her kitten.

"That was wrong of them. It was wrong of the incubi tonight." The whole system was wrong and Lilian didn't know how to fix it. Sabine wanted to expand it and Lilian wasn't entirely sure she could argue back. The predator in her wanted to go conquering and whispered sweet things to Lilian's ego.

"I know," Mirri said, and there was a defensive edge in her voice again. "But here you are, keeping secrets from me and-- I just--" She stopped whatever she was going to say. "You have so much _power_ , Lilian."

They were skirting around _that_ again. Lilian could feel it burning the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell Mirri. But if she did, she knew she'd never see her kitten again. Mirri would bolt and never return. She had to _be there_ , to explain, to--

To keep Mirri from running away before she'd apologized.

"I'm going to tell you everything," Lilian said, "I promise. When I get back. Anything you want to know."

Mirri sighed and Lilian felt as if she'd been put through some sort of test. She wondered if she passed it or failed. "I know. It's just-- waiting is hard."

"No patience?" Lilian asked, and the mood shifted, once again harmless.

Mirri's smile was rather shy. "Well, I am a kitten. Curiosity and the cat and all."

"Satisfaction brings it back," Lilian said softly.

"Yes," Mirri's voice was just as soft. "It does."

Lilian traced a heart on her pillow. "Kitten?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask who hurt you?" Lilian asked. "How you ended up on the streets?"

Mirri hesitated. "Is it important?"

 _Yes_. "No," Lilian said.

"Then I'd rather not say," Mirri shifted slightly in place. "It's not... something I want to dwell on. Exactly."

"Okay," Lilian said. Mirri looked surprised, as if she'd expected Lilian to push until she gave in. That look, more than anything else, broke Lilian's heart open. How often had her boundaries been trod upon? How many times had they been ignored?

"Lilian?"

Lilian opened her eyes, not realizing she'd closed them. "Yes, kitten?"

"There's some people from the orphanage I was at," Mirri said. "I'm going to be meeting up with them, once a week. And they're going to invite me out for a few days for a vacation, but they haven't gotten anything set up yet."

"Oh," Lilian was surprised by the news. "Friends of yours?"

"Sort of."

"Can I meet them?" She wanted to meet anyone who had known Mirri before.

"I'd-- rather you didn't." Mirri said. "They're... not exactly trusting. And they've only just-- well I've only just found them."

"Oh," Lilian said. She was disappointed, but on the other hand, she understood their desire for secrecy. Allison was just as protective over the free succubi communities. "Well, just tell me when you need off, Kitten. Don't let me stop you from having fun."

Mirri's smile was somewhat strained. "Thanks, Lilian."

"Something wrong?"

"Oh-- no. I just-- You're being very accommodating. I'm not-- I'm just adjusting."

Whoever had hurt her kitten better already be dead. Or Lilian was going to hunt them down and flay them alive and use their skin to line the hellhound kennels. Maybe she'd toss their bones to the gluttony demons for extra measure. She took a deep breath, trying to control her fury.

"I think," Lilian said. "We need to talk about boundaries and expectations when I get back. First thing. Because I want _you_ to expect _me_ to be considerate of your boundaries and accommodate your desires."

Mirri's smile was a bit less strained. "I'll try to do that-- Missy."

Missy was tacked onto the end, not quite a second thought but obviously not part of the original plan. Hesitant and unpracticed, mostly teasing, but oh so _sincere_ at the heart of it. It sent a thrill through Lilian's body that banished any thoughts of sleep or exhaustion.

"How do you like it?" Lilian asked, almost sitting up straight.

"It's nice, Missy," the second time was a bit more natural, a bit smoother. Mirri was still teasing a bit, Lilian thought. But the sincerity behind the word was also blatant to Lilian's trained ears. Some of the brightness returned to her eyes. "Maybe I should use it more-- Missy."

"Careful, Kitten," Lilian purred. "There's a fine line between proper deference and mocking your mistress."

"But you'll teach me, right?" Mirri asked. There was an obvious pause and she was obviously enjoying herself now as the sincerity swung right into teasing and mischief. Lilian adored the mischief. She hoped her kitten never lost it. " _Missy?_ "

"I'd be more than _happy_ to teach you the difference, kitten," Lilian teased right back. "I'll teach you anything your little kitty heart desires."

"There is one thing you can show me now, Missy," Mirri said after a moment. Lilian smiled inwardly. When her kitten wasn't trying to tease, the sincerity of the nickname showed through so plainly.

"Oh?" Lilian asked. She arched an eyebrow. "And what is that, kitten?"

"Could you please spread your tentacles apart?" Mirri asked, her voice all innocence. The gleam of mischief made her eyes sparkle, even brighter than before. Lilian spread her tentacles as requested. "And maybe move the camera down?"

"Like this?" Lilian picked the bracelet off of the bedside table and held it in front of her exposed genitalia. She meant to tease her kitten, but obviously her kitten had expected it. No fun at all.

"Perfect, Missy," Mirri said and Lilian's heart sang as it rolled smoothly off of her kitten's tongue. Sure Mirri could use practice in being consistent, but the emotion was there. She hmmed a bit and glanced down, nodded several times to herself. Lilian spotted the pages of a book as Mirri's hands vanished in and out of frame. "Okay, so that's that--"

"Kitten," Lilian purred. "Are you using your mistress as a live anatomy model?"

Mirri glanced up. Her tone was perfectly innocent, but her little smile gave her away entirely. "I thought I'd learn about incubi sweet spots. So I can properly please you. The diagrams are just a bit messy though."

Lilian shifted several tentacles around so she was stroking herself for Mirri to see. Flexing her body slightly, she spread open the lips of one sheath with her fingers, even as she rubbed the set of buds that framed it. If her kitten wanted to play that game, Lilian was more than ready to play back. "Would you like a demonstration? It'd be much more useful to your studies than words from a book."

"Oh-- um--" Mirri's cheeks flushed deep red and Lilian wasn't quite able to suppress a snicker. "Oh no, would you look at the time? I should be getting off to bed now. I've got-- stuff to do in the morning."

Lilian fought a smile and stopped tormenting her kitten. She set the bracelet back in its spot. "Stuff kitten?"

"Important stuff." Mirri elaborated helpfully. Her cheeks were still scarlet.

"Mmhmmm." Lilian fought the urge to laugh. "Very important."

"Very," Mirri agreed, nodding her head.

Lilian supposed she'd take mercy on her kitten. "Of course, kitten. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Missy," Mirri said, a bit shyly. She cut the call quickly, blinking away. Lilian rolled over on the bed and stifled her laughter as she put the bracelet back on her wrist and held it close. She pressed her lips to it, feeling surprisingly light.

"Goodnight, kitten," she repeated. "Sweetest dreams."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long didn't it? Mirri insisted on showing up though and who am I to refuse her? Especially since she and Lilian need a bit of happiness right now. I've thrown a lot at them. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Currently, the plan is that there'll be at least one more interlude and a kinktober prompt before those two get back in the same room. (I personally can't wait for them to get back together!) So soon! I promise.
> 
> A few quick questions for all of you: Firstly, what do you all think of the longer chapters? Finally, would you like more chapters from a secondary character's PoV (Chrissy, Lief, Errolr, Sabine, etc) and not just the main duo?
> 
> Thank you all for reading. See you next week!


	23. Seventeen - Auction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian finds more than she expected.

The Firesong Auction lasted for a full week. The succubi for sale were the best that the trainers could put forward and they wanted to be sure that they got the best possible sale on them. Traditionally, passes were needed to be bought before you could even bid on a succubus, but everyone was welcome to see look at what was for sale. Window shopping, but for people rather than knicknacks.

Cheaper succubi were put in larger glass cases outside the theater. Discount tags dangling from their pierced ears and more than a few had brands on their cheeks to mark them as various types of troublesome. None wore collars or any clothes at all, but the marks of a collar ringed their necks. Once purchased, their owners would give them a collar (hopefully bought from the house's collar supply). Lilian still remembered the days when even those rejects would be beyond her ability to purchase them. Now they were all considered beneath her, though the rejects were nearly as exquisite as the most expensive of their peers.

Every color of skin, hair, wings and tail was available. Such minor details could be tailored to suit an owner's preference, with enough training and breaking of their spirit. It had to be done carefully-- a color change from red to blue could result in a grey-haired, spiritless succubus if not handled correctly. Lilian used to admire the skill of the trainers who could invoke a change in their succubi's coloration. It was the greatest skill a trainer could offer, after all, more than anything else. Most trainers could break a spirit, but to break it and remake it in such a way that only the color of a succubus changed nothing else? That took delicacy. Isabelle had waxed poetic about master trainers who could tune succubi coloration so skillfully that they could produce the same color in any succubi they handled and change them back before a month was over.

Now Lilian felt sick at the thought.

"I must commend the cultivators of House Nyxaellen," Sabine said beside Lilian, drawing Lilian out of her thoughts. Sabine blew at the translucent red veil over her face and horns, obscuring them from view. "The form of their most recent succubi is beyond exquisite, even in the rejects from their program."

The two of them were disguised, with long veils and gowns in the fashion of one of the farther provinces. It had been Lilian's idea, mostly because she had wanted to avoid the attention that being the queen and the queen's betrothed attracted. For once Lilian didn't want a huge show or following of people. If someone wanted to talk to them, they would find the pair regardless but there was no need to invite trouble. Sabine had been delighted by the idea and thrown herself into it. She'd come up with false names, backgrounds, and even a passable ID and bank account.

It was nice not to be the High General and just be Lili, an ordinary-- if wealthy-- woman out on a walk with her wife.

Trailing behind the two of them was Errolr, the lead of his silk leash looped around Sabine's wrist. His tail flicked from one side to another, the short plume at the end barely hovering above the ground. His eyes were fixed on the discount cases and he shuffled closer to Lilian, his tail brushing up against her back briefly. She could smell his distress.  
Sabine twitched his leash. Errolr fell back to the proper spot for a pet.

"Oh, what's he hurting, Sabe?" Lilian asked, barely remembering Sabine's false name in time. She twitched her fingers, beckoning to Errolr. He stepped closer to her and she snaked a tentacle around his wrists, the tip of it tracing a circle on his knuckles. She could feel the tension in his body relax slowly and he curled his fingers around her tentacle, holding onto it with a tightness that was almost painful.

"You know very well that you must be strict with them if they're going to behave," Sabine said lazily.

"Look at how sweet they all are," Lilian gestured around the discount cases. "How could I possibly be strict?"

Sabine rolled her eyes but smiled fondly at Lilian. "A heartless terror on the battlefield but one blink of a succubus's eyes and you're a helpless pile of tentacle."

"What an innovative strategy," Lilian glanced over at Sabine and smiled back. "Perhaps I should implement it against my enemies more often."

"Hmmm, it would certainly be interesting," Sabine laughed, reaching out for Lilian's hand. She laced their fingers together, her thumb resting possessively on the back of Lilian's knuckles. "Perhaps we should test it out, between the two of us."

"Perhaps we should," Lilian agreed. She tightened her grip on Sabine's hand, shifting close enough that she could put her head on Sabine's shoulder. "It would make battles much easier."

"Shall we go inside?" Sabine asked, looking a bit longingly at the doors of the theater. It loomed in front of Lilian, with high arches and pylons shaped like the petals of a blossoming flower around the central theaters and auditoriums. A slow trickle of men and women entered and left through gilded doors. Several succubi shackled to the pillars outside of the theater hall showed off a variety of toys and collars, a living advertisement for the other services that the cultivating houses provided.

"No, I want to look around here a bit more," Lilian moved over to one case. Her fingers trailed along the edge of the glass. The last time she'd attended an auction like this, just walking around as if she was normal rather than someone important, she, Isabelle, and Azira had all still been close friends. She missed those days. Part of her wished she had never drawn the queen's attention, never became a general and had stayed a captain. Life had been far less complicated. "It's been a long time."

"There's no need to be stingy," Sabine said, misreading Lilian's desire to linger. "We can afford any one that you want."

They would have been the only succubi she could afford, before she'd been a general and the queen's betrothed and even the rejects of the intense training regimen of high class succubi were incredible in their own way. Lilian honestly could care less for the distinctions between the classes of succubi. She could tell, of course, but sometimes the lines were blurred when she was looking at carefully perfected beauty. The cultivators' skill increased every year and training and magical prowess distinguished between the classes rather than pure physical appearance.

But beneath that incredible beauty lay cruelty. Sometimes it wasn't that deeply hidden.

She was unable to help the pain that twisted her heart as she walked through the rows of cases. Whip marks showed red on backs and shoulders, despite thick layers of makeup to hide them. There was chafed skin where cuffs and collars rubbed against delicate succubi flesh. Some had been over cultivated, her eye picking out limbs that were a bit too thin to be truly beautiful, exaggerated proportions that had straddled that hazy line between attractive and obscene. Greyed succubi stared blankly at the floor of their cages, personalities completely wiped clean.

Lilian spotted one case with three succubus. They were being sold as a bundle at an incredibly steep discount. They'd been beaten badly, fading bruises piled up on top of each other turning their skin into mottled maps of pain. One had a feral brand on her cheek, a simple trio of lines like the slash of outstretched claws. Her eyes gleamed fiercely, blood-streaked gold. Her hair was deepest red, a color between flame and blood. She was bound hand and foot by thick leather and heavy cuffs, a leather muzzle strapped around her head. Her ears had been notched-- five on one side and three on the other-- marking her as a troublemaker and a fighter.

Her wings were bound, but they strained as they tried to wrap around the other two succubi in the case. Both were female, colored in delicate shades of periwinkle. They watched the crowd hopefully and whimpered whenever someone turned away in disgust. Their wings fluttered slightly as Lilian drew closer. They were tiny, half-developed and barely a yard from one wing tip to another and had the greyish hue of wings that couldn't effectively store grace.

It was an unforgivable flaw in a slave whose only purpose was to serve as a magical resource for their masters.

There was an edge of desperation in the feral's eyes as Lilian came to a stop in front of them. The other two ducked their heads down and spread their legs in order to put themselves on full display, as if they hoped that their sexual appeal would convince her to buy them, their tails flicking incitingly. They didn't have anything particularly impressive, which was probably why they'd been passed over so many times. A small sticker taped to one corner of the box stated that they were over ninety percent off and slated for recycling if not purchased.

No one had put a bid on them yet and the day was half over. Their chances of getting purchased were slim and they all seemed to know it. Even the feral shifted position, forcing herself to take on a submissive pose that was so unnatural-looking it must have been painful. The feral's eyes held Lilian's for just a moment, and then she glanced at the other two in the case. Her wings shifted position, drawing them closer to her.

Lilian's heart tugged.

Sabine had moved off with Errolr. Lilian glanced over at the pair of them and it took her a moment to find them in the crowd. Errolr's attention was on several male succubi curled up in another glass cage and Sabine had noticed She circled back around, her hand on his shoulder as her tentacles curled around his legs. The male succubi pressed their fingers against their glass case and Errolr shuddered as Sabine bent her head down to murmur in his ear, her hand twisted into the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Please," one of the succubi said, drawing Lilian's attention. "Give us a chance. We'll please you. You'll see."

Her voice was shaking badly. Lilian tilted her head slightly and she fell silent as one of the others tugged on her tail. She trembled in place. The other periwinkle succubus looked over at Lilian and her eyes were more pleading and pitiful than before.

"Is that so?" Lilian asked.

"Yes, grand one," the first succubus nearly fell over herself in her eagerness to reply. "We've been trained in all acts of pleasure and our trainers have always been pleased with us. We will not disappoint you, grand one. You'll see. You'll never be unhappy again, grand one."

"What if I'm not looking for a group?" Lilian asked. "What if I only want one succubus?"

She almost felt cruel for asking them that question. The feral wrapped her wings tighter around her two companions and _glared_ at Lilian as if daring Lilian to take them away from her. The talkative one had fallen silent completely, her eyes wide and welling up with tears. She glanced at the other two, her tiny wings shuffling about as her tail swished along the floor of the case.

"We-- we work best as a group, grand one," she stuttered out. "We-- we--"

There was nothing she could say. If Lilian only wanted a single succubus, there was nothing they could do to make her get all three of them. They obviously knew that, but now faced with it, they were on the verge of complete breakdown. Lilian's heart twisted again. She hadn't _planned_ on buying any succubi at all. She didn't even know what she'd _do_ with one, much less three. She'd have to take them back to the apartment with her; she certainly couldn't leave them at the palace. But _Mirri_ was at the apartment and Lilian had a feeling she knew exactly how Mirri would react to the fact that Lilian had bought slaves.

Mostly by running in the other direction as fast as physically possible and probably before Lilian got past 'I couldn't let them die'. Lilian wouldn't even _blame_ Mirri for doing so.

But she couldn't leave them here to be recycled. They weren't going to be bought by anyone. She couldn't just leave them to die while she could purchase them and save their life.

Ugh, she was _stupid_. Stupid incubus.

She could get in contact with Allison. Ask and see if Allison could take them to the free communities and let them vanish there. Allison would probably vet them first, but Lilian didn't see why she would refuse to. It would be easy to claim to Sabine that they had been unhealthy and died, or attacked her and she'd been forced to kill them. One was a feral, after all. Everyone knew that ferals were wild and unpredictable, that a pair of succubi with tiny wings had something else wrong with them and had died because of it.

Mirri-- well, Lilian would explain the situation to her. She might resent having to share the apartment, but 'I'm trying to free these three, mind if they stay here while I find them a safe place?' was better than 'I bought slaves because I pitied them, are you okay with that?' by several leagues.

The feral was still glaring at her, but there was a growing desperation despite her anger. She clutched the two beside her tightly, and the other two stared out with such hollowness that Lilian's decision was made for her before she finished thinking it through. No, she wasn't going to leave them here. She wasn't going to separate them. Whatever happened, they were hers.

The Archdemons knew that she couldn't save all of them, but she could save these three right now. 

Lilian signaled one of the auction workers milling around. He wore the sigil of House Lilitharen stitched onto his uniform jacket. He rested on hand on the riding crop clipped to the belt and glared at the succubi. "Are they giving you any trouble, mistress?"

"Not at all," Lilian said. "I would like to buy all three of them."

"We have far better available--" The worker began, taking in the rich gold embroidery on Lilian's clothes and the delicate jewels that decorated the edge of her silk veil. Lilian smiled and bared all of her teeth as her tentacles shifted. _Dominance_ filled the air around her and the worker bowed before it, dipping his head respectfully. In their case, the three succubi fixed their attention completely on Lilian.

"I want these three," Lilian said simply.

"Yes, of course, mistress," the incubus said, dipping his head again. "Would you like to have them delivered to--"

"I'll take them with me. You can add a leash and collar for each." Lilian said decisively. The incubus jotted down a few numbers on a piece of paper and hurried off, peeling away the 'for sale' sticker from the case before he did so. Lilian leaned against the glass case as she waited for him to return.

"Thank you, grand one," one of the succubi said in a trembling voice. She flattened herself against the ground. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. You won't regret it. Not a second."

"See that I don't," Lilian said simply.

The worker returned with leashes and collars. He quickly unlocked the case and collared each of the succubi and passed Lilian the leashes. The feral's legs were carefully unbound and her cuffs exchanged for restraints that would allow her to shuffle along at a very slow pace. Then came the purchasing papers that passed their ownership to her, which Lilian signed and sealed with her sigil. It was easy enough to pay in cash for the three of them-- they didn't cost her more than a single gold piece, even with their collars and leashes thrown in and almost doubling the price.

"Come along," Lilian said in a gentler voice, slipping the leads of the leashes over her wrist. She glanced around the auction again. Sabine was still at the glass case with the two male succubi inside. Errolr was now on his knees, his wings shaking. The two male succubi had backed up against the far wall of their enclosure and looked like they wanted to be elsewhere. An auction worker held papers in one hand and a riding crop in the other. Lilian sighed as she gently tugged the leashes of her new succubi and lead them towards Sabine and Errolr.

Sabine looked over as Lilian strode up. Surprise flashed briefly across her face as she took in the three succubi trailing behind Lilian. Then it was gone, replaced with a slight lift of her lips. "You are too soft, my love."

Lilian shrugged her shoulders and looked down at Errolr. There were red marks around his neck where his collar had been yanked too hard more around his jaw where Sabine had obviously grabbed it. "What happened here? I thought any succubus below a Class A was beneath you?"

"Oh, our little pet here changed my mind." Sabine finished signing several papers and passed several coins over to the auction worker. He accepted them and they quickly vanished into his pockets. Sabine's hand fell to Errolr and ruffled his hair. He flinched and she twisted the strands around her fingers, pulling on it before gesturing him to rise. The auction worker pulled the succubi from their case and quickly lead them away.

"I see," Lilian said evenly. Errolr edged closer to her and nearly walked straight into one of the periwinkle succubi. His lower lip trembled slightly as he looked over at Lilian. She sighed and stretched out a tentacle, closing it around his wrist reassuringly. 

"Shall we continue on inside?" Sabine asked Lilian. She turned a measuring gaze upon the trio of succubi and obviously found them lacking. "They are-- well, it's always such such a show inside. Those three are quite-- _nice_ \-- but you really deserve something a bit better than a charity case, my love."

"Of course," she said with a smile she didn't really feel.

Through the gold-gilt doors of the theater hall, the main lobby was full of bright golden light. Sabine presented the guards with their tickets and they were allowed to join the nobility that milled about. Here, the products on display were not hidden behind glass cages. They perched and stretched out on abstract sculptures that stirred up erotic thoughts, as much a work of art as the sculptures beneath them.

Each succubus had their own theme. Flowers were a common one. Flowers, frost, and all manner of delicate things that were too easily destroyed by careless hands. Lilian had never actually been farther than the lobby and was somewhat intimidated by the sight of so many succubi, each with their own effortless beauty.

Down one hall, succubi demonstrated their talents. One sang within a minor auditory off of the main hall, his resonant voice making Lilian's heart ache. Another recited poetry in a clear, bird-like voice. Two that resembled each other so closely they might have been twins danced with each other as ribbons of red and blue silk streamed from their wrists and ankles and tails.

Down another hall, succubi that were almost ready to be sold were being offered up as a 'taste' for potential buyers so that none of the succubi on display had to get too messy. They reclined on couches and beds and tables, bare bodies sheened with sweat and sweet pheromones blurring Lilian's ability to think.

"Well, where do you want to start?" Sabine asked. She peered at a central pillar. Banners hanging from it displayed maps and lists of locations. Succubi were sorted by class and talent for the most part. "I've heard the Class-A's are particularly delightful this year."

Errolr was staring at the succubi as much as some of the shoppers. He watched, entranced, as a female succubus sucked on the tentacle of a noble man. Lilian rested her hand on his shoulder and he jumped, glancing up at her with a guilty expression as his tail flicked back and forth nervously. Lilian's three succubi clustered nervously together, their limbs half-entwined and tails twisting around each other.

Truthfully, Lilian was a bit intimidated. She'd never been within this elite part of the auction before and she didn't really know where to go. Two noblewomen walked past, chatting to each other as they sipped at glasses that must have held purified pheromone for the way that Lilian's body reacted. Heat rolled through her and her eyes were drawn to one particular succubus at the end, with soft furry ears and a tail with a plume much like her kitten's.

"Is it always like this?" Lilian asked, fighting the urge to lick her lips. The succubus had spread her legs for inspection, her fingers trailing invitingly across the soft folds of flesh that framed her sheath. 

"Hmm?" Sabine hummed. A succubi server walked up to them, holding a tray in his hands. He was naked, save for swirling vines of gold across his shoulders and back. The tray held the same small glasses that the noblewomen had carried. Sabine plucked two of them off the tray and offered one to Lilian. Sabine sniffed the glass and gave an appreciative hum. "This is actually fairly quiet. But we are arriving a bit late, love."

Lilian sipped the glass automatically. Pure sex rolled through her, lust as hot and fierce as any fire. Her tentacles swayed in the air, tasting it. Everywhere there was sex and succubi ready to be taken. She licked her lips slightly, her eyes drawn once again to the kittenish succubi. One female incubus had her hand half-inserted into the succubus's dripping sheath and the succubus's hips were rolling as she shuddered in pleasure.

Lilian remembered doing the same to her kitten. Archdemons, how she wanted her sweet kitten, to make her cry and tremble with pleasure until she was limp and then go back and do it all over again. How she wanted her kitten tangled in her tentacles and live there forever, never leaving Lilian's grasp.

 _Would you focus, silly incubus_? She thought, yanking her eyes away. She inspected the golden liquid inside the glass. "What is this?"

Sabine smirked. "Like it, love? I can have them ship some to the palace for you to take with you. Keep you thinking of me." Her tentacles curled deep within Lilian's and twitched up against sensitive scales. Lilian shivered at the possessive touch and her gaze slid to Sabine. This time she _did_ lick her lips.

"Is this really the place?" Lilian murmured softly, but didn't move away. Sabine's tentacles felt good and the heat sliding through Lilian's body turned molten. She wrapped her arms around Sabine and pulled their veils to the side slightly so she could press a kiss to Sabine's lips. She felt the warmth from Sabine's breath. "It's much better if we wait until the bedroom, love."

Sabine slid her tongue between Lilian's lips and probed deeper. Lilian opened her mouth willingly, closing her eyes as she welcomed Sabine inside. She ached when Sabine pulled away from the embrace. Through the thin red veil, Lilian saw the curve of Sabine's smile. Past it, she saw Errolr, his wings drooping slightly as his tail swayed back and forth.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Sabine said. Lilian just smiled back and took another sip from the glass. It was growing on her. She might have Sabine get a bottle so she could share it with her sweet kitten. "Let's start with the lowest classes and work our way up? Yeah? Then we can save the best for last that way."

They started walking. The lowest classes were high Class B's, nearly a Class-A. Lilian's tentacles wandered despite herself and she actively had to keep them to herself, eventually twining them around the waists and wrists of her trio of succubi. The sensation of delicate, warm skin only made her tentacles more active, they wanted more and so did Lilian. She circled a few female succubi, barely able to keep her hands off of their soft skin and the velvety membranes of their wings. The scent radiating from their skin approached the divine and she wondered how Sabine managed to think of anything other than drowning herself within them. Their eyes were large, pupils so dilated that only a thin ring of iris showed.

Sabine passed Lilian another tiny glass. Her free hand explored the sword of a male succubus who shuddered in the elaborate binding of rope that held him in place.  
"Not quite what I'm looking for," Sabine said after a moment and backed off. Lilian took a sip from her glass, closing her eyes. She wanted desperately to push someone-- _anyone_ \-- up against a wall and take her pleasure from them. Succubus or incubus, Queen or slave, she didn't care. She needed so badly that her new succubi were reacting to her pheromones, their hands twitching and brushing up against each other's skin far more than was actually appropriate for them.

"Let's go back to the palace," Lilian suggested, setting down a half-finished glass of the golden liquid. It was her third and the part of her brain that was still sober was firmly insisting that it be her last. Sabine was on her fourth on the other hand and showed no signs of stopping. One of her tentacles had wrapped firmly around Errolr's legs, tail, and waist. From the flush of his cheeks and the shift of his legs, Lilian assumed that the tip of Sabine's tentacle was buried somewhere inside of him.

She glanced at her trio. They were wrapped up in each other's arms now, bodies pressed so closely together it was hard to tell where one began and another ended. Their tails flicked back and forth, spreading a fresh wave of arousal and lust through Lilian's hot, aching body. She held her breath but that was almost worse than inhaling their pheromones because then she couldn't _sense_ them and they soothed her even as they made her ache for them.

"Hmmm," Sabine said. She swayed slightly, her eyes fixed on Lilian. She licked her lips slightly. "I like that idea. We could try out our purchases."

Lilian was struggling to think clearly. But trying out her new succubi sounded like the best idea she'd had today if only because it would bring sweet relief to the burning need that had built up within her. "That sounds _perfect_."

"Besides," Sabine said, glancing around at all of the painfully beautiful succubi around them. "I haven't seen anything extraordinary."

"Mmm," Lilian pressed herself against Sabine's side and her fingers fiddled with the gold bands on Sabine's horns. The smooth, twisting bone was frictionless beneath her touch and Lilian fought the urge to grab them and pull Sabine around. The queen would not appreciate being dominated in public. But in private Lilian could make her scream as she twisted her tentacles deep within Sabine's body.

"Excuse me, general, but something has gone a bit wrong with your purchase," a familiar voice said. "You'll have to come with me."

Lilian turned around and spotted Isabelle. The incubus was shorter than Lilian, with soft, rounded curves and smooth, flawlessly brown skin that spoke of a luxurious life from birth. Her dark blue hair was cut in a sharp bob around her heart-shaped face and set off her sparkling violet eyes wonderfully. The throb of heat in Lilian's body grew to an ache. Isabelle had only grown more beautiful over the years. It was a sharper beauty than Sabine's classic majesty, but no less beautiful in Lilian's eyes. Why ever had she let Isabelle go? It had been so long since Lilian had tasted Isabelle's particular brand of pleasure.

 _Focus, Lilian_ , she tried to clear her head, but right now she would fuck the corner of a table if it meant getting relief. And memories of her time with Isabelle and Azira were swimming through her head, bringing a new flush of heat to her cheeks.

"No need to be so formal, Isabelle," Lilian said, managing to keep the _'Want to fuck?'_ from escaping somehow. "What went wrong?"

"A minor processing error," Isabelle looked apologetic. "We need you to sign a few more papers to make everything legal. I'm terribly sorry about the inconvience."

"It's no inconvenience at all," Lilian said. She glanced at her succubi and slipped their leashes from her wrist, passing them to Sabine. "I'll meet you outside then?"

"Take your time," Sabine said lazily as she accepted the leashes. Errolr had to shift position to accommodate Lilian's trio. "There's only one more room. I think I'm going to take a look."

Lilian nodded her head. "After you, Izzie-- Isabelle." The nickname slipped from her lips before she could quite stop it. Sabine through her a look briefly, then smiled and moved off. Lilian took a deep breath before she could stop herself and got another lungful of pheromones. She balled her hands up in the full skirts of her gown, fighting the urge to reach out and take Isabelle's hand.

Isabelle walked towards a curtain along one wall. "Are you alright? You're a little--"

"One too many of those little drinks that are getting passed around," Lilian said. "Stronger than I'm used to."

Isabelle chuckled. "I suppose that would do it. It's one of my best vintages, you know. Almost a century old."

" _You_ brewed it?" Lilian asked. "I didn't think you took that much time away from training succubi."

Isabelle's smile was a touch sly. "I have hidden talents, dear Lili. If you'd like, I can give you a few spare bottles. A complimentary gift, so to speak. It's unfortunate that you were unable to find anything other than a few discount succubi while you were here. The House Lord would have me switched out of shame if he knew."

"I doubt it," Lilian snorted. "He loves you more than anyone else in his house."

"Well, he did," Isabelle said quietly. Her smile slipped from her lips, then she shook her head and smiled at Lilian again. Behind the curtain, there was another hallway, this one made of smooth, polished wood but little else. A secondary hallway, used by actors and workers to keep from being seen by the nobility in the main halls. It was fairly busy, with succubi being lead back and forth on leashes or being quickly touched up before being sent out. Isabelle skillfully dodged the chaos and Lilian was grateful that she'd left her trio behind with Sabine. In the tight space, one of her succubi would have gotten trampled on fairly quickly.

"What happened?" Lilian asked.

"Oh," Isabelle sighed. "I won't bore you with the details. But suffice to say, my husband's face is as pretty as his brain is small."

Lilian winced. Isabelle's husband was generally regarded to be one of the most handsome incubi in the kingdom. "That bad, huh?"

"I'd rather not talk about it, if that's alright with you," Isabelle said. Her nostrils flared slightly. 

"Can't you get a divorce?"

"I'm trying," she explained, "But House law is that marriages are forever. Let's just say I'm ready to end this marriage one way or another."

They walked in silence for a bit. Lilian wasn't quite sure what to say to Isabelle's confession. Technically murder was a crime, but-- well, more than one incubus had arranged to have a disliked spouse disposed of and then reborn. The marriage contract broke with death after all, while the rebirth meant that they technically weren't dead. It was complicated on several levels.

"I will admit, I was surprised to see your purchase," Isabelle said. They turned down another corridor, this one considerably quieter than the main thoroughfare. "It's not like you to want the broken ones. You never did like training them."

"Oh well," Lilian shrugged her shoulders somewhat awkwardly. "I saw them sitting there and they looked so pathetic-- I just want to hold them close and protect them all."

Isabelle snorted ever so slightly and shook her head. An amused smile played around her lips but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I see you're still the same old Lili. Always wanting to save everyone."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Lilian asked. She followed Isabelle to an office room with a desk pushed up against one wall. Leashes and collars hung on a far wall, ranging from ordinary bands of leather to elaborate shock collars.

Isabelle picked up several papers on the desk and began to flip through them. She passed them to Lilian, along with a pen. Lilian riffled through them. It was some kind of insurance waiver. She inspected it closely, but didn't see anything odd. It was basically agreeing she couldn't sue the house for the poor health of her succubi or if the feral attacked her. Lilian leaned over the desk and began to sign her name on the indicated lines. "Ever wonder if some people don't deserve to be saved?"

"What makes you ask that?" Lilian asked. Isabelle leaned against the desk beside her, her tentacles playing tag with Lilian's. It was an old game of theirs, one that usually preceded a wrestling match in bed. Lilian flushed at the thought and accidentally snapped the tip off of the pen. Ink splattered across the papers, ruining them. "Oh--"

"I have another form," Isabelle offered. Lilian thanked her as she wiped ink off of her fingers. Her hands shook slightly. "You have a habit of picking unwinnable fights, Lili."

Lilian nearly snapped the tip off of the second pen as well. "What do you mean by _that?_ "

Isabelle's fingers traced the edge of the desk. Lilian tried not to think of all the time those same fingers had traced along her skin. "Picking fights with your superiors, picking fights against bullies-- the number of times you came back to me with bruises and black eyes-- picking a fight with the queen over a pet who admitted to being a traitor--"

Lilian set down the pen on the desk with a click and straightened up. She turned to Isabelle. Fury added a violent edge to her lust, one that made her shudder. "Don't drag my kitten into this, Isabelle. She's gone and all I have left is her memory."

Isabelle continued talking. Her eyes were distant, as if one some long ago memory. When she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically soft. "You argued so hard to keep her alive. But there was nothing you could do the moment she tried to poison the queen. Even if she had succeeded, she would have been killed."

Lilian completed the form but didn't hand it over. Her pulse picked up. Somewhere in her lust addled brain, she remembered Sabine's quiet words about someone approaching her during the auction. Was that someone Isabelle? Would Lilian have to turn her former lover into the queen? The thought made her stomach turn, let her thoughts clear for a few moments. She couldn't torture someone else she cared about.

She _couldn't_.

"What's this about, Isabelle?" Lilian asked. She was surprised at how even her voice sounded.

Isabelle glanced at Lilian. "Haven't you ever wondered how your kitten got access to poison? How she knew how to use it? She was a succubus. She'd been trained in submission and obedience since her hatching to incubi and her masters. How could she possibly turn on you and the queen?"

"My kitten gave her confession," Lilian said flatly. Still, Isabelle's questions dug into the doubts that had haunted Lilian for so long. "She was jealous of the queen."

"The official line," Isabelle said dismissively. Her eyes caught Lilian's and held them. They were a beautiful color, Isabelle's eyes. The kind of eyes that Lilian could fall into and never emergy from. She smiled crookedly at Lilian as she hopped up to sit on the desk. "We both know there's more to it than that. You must have wondered."

"I do," Lilian said carefully. "Do you have answers?"

"Your kitten wasn't the jealous one," Isabelle said. "Anyone could see that. She looked at the two of you with stars in her eyes You looked at her the same way. A more romantic person might have called it love. Gods know I was a bit jealous of the way you doted on her. I've never seen a more spoiled pet."

Lilian's chest hurt. "Get to the _point,_ Isabelle."

Isabelle twitched her tentacles. "Think about it, Lilian. She had no reason to be jealous of the queen. But the moment the queen gave her to you, where did your attention go?"

Archdemons help her, Lilian's heart was pounding hard in her chest now and it wasn't just out of fear or anger. She twisted around and pinned Isabelle flat against the desk, using her greater strength and height to pin the smaller incubus in place. Isabelle's tentacles offered no resistance. Instead, they creeped along Lilian's hips and twined around her waist, stroking her back. "I'm not in the mood for games, Isabelle. Especially not when my kitten's involved. _Who_ forced my kitten to commit treason?"

"Her majesty of course."

Lilian stared into Isabelle's eyes. Her breath came in quick bursts and one hand made its way to Isabelle's throat. Lilian's claws dug into soft skin as she fought the urge to squeeze. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. "You liar! The queen wouldn't do that!"

Isabelle's violet eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. "She was jealous of your little kitten, Lili. You were too in love to see it, but I saw the way her eyes darkened. She wanted to get you a pet, but the minute the pet replaced her-- well, the pet had to go. And she could tend to your broken heart afterward."

It made horrific sense. That was the worst part. It _made_ sense and there was no deception in Isabelle's gaze. She wasn't lying.

"No," Lilian said. Something inside of her crumbled. "No. She couldn't have-- she couldn't--"

Isabelle reached out and slipped her arms around Lilian. Lilian leaned into the familiar press of Isabelle's body. Her scent surrounded Lilian, something warm and full of rich spices. She leaned her head into the crook of Isabelle's neck as Isabelle stroked the line of Lilian's spine. There was something unbearably intimate and tender in the touch. Something that was missing whenever Sabine touched her.

Lilian couldn't stand. She sank to the ground and Isabelle went with her.

"How could she--" Lilian said. "My kitten-- she was-- she was--" Lilian had _loved_ her. But truthfully, she knew that Sabine had liked her kitten less and less as time had gone on. She'd handled her kitten roughly, painfully, leaving bites and bruises that had lingered for days. It was too easy to see Sabine trying to get rid of her kitten somehow. And how easily Sabine could take down her worst opponents in the court at the same time. Hadn't several major houses been broken in the fallout of the assassination attempt?

It was such an elegant move.

Isabelle pushed back Lilian's veil and cupped Lilian's face in her hand. "I know, Lili. I know."

Lilian shook her head, "How do you know about this?"

"Unlike you, I don't have a blind spot when it comes to the queen," Isabelle said. "And I've been at court. You hear things. Whispers here and there. The queen stopping by a certain shop. Keeping your kitten locked up in her quarters for days on end. We barely saw the tip of her tail until you came back. Everyone thought the queen had killed her until we saw her trotting by your side."

Lilian dropped her head into her hands. "My kitten knew. She _knew_. She _pleaded_ for me to keep her on the battlefield. She _pleaded_. I should have never sent her away. I-- I--"

"You couldn't have known, Lilian," Isabelle said. "How could you? You were the one she was trying to trick. And now she wants to do the same thing again, but this time she's going to drag the entire kingdom into a war we can't fight."

Lilian sank back against the desk. "She told me. She wants me to lead the armies again."

"Will you?" Isabelle asked.

"Do I have a choice?" Lilian asked. Isabelle was too close but Lilian didn't want her to go. She didn't want to go back to Sabine. Not yet. Not ever, maybe. Not if she had-- not if she was the reason her kitten was dead. "If I don't lead them-- I'm our best general, Isabelle. I've fought against everyone at least once. I'm the best person to keep our people safe."

Isabelle laced her fingers through Lilian's and squeezed tightly. "You could always refuse. Take a stand against the queen."

"And start another civil war?" Lilian asked. "Hasn't there been enough death?"

Isabelle ran her thumb across Lilian's knuckles. "Won't there be more death if she goes through with her plan?"

Lilian didn't have an answer for that. "I'll talk to her. See if I can change her mind."

"That's not going to work," Isabelle said. "We've all tried that."

"None of you are me," Lilian said with a confidence she didn't feel. When Sabine had an idea, she wasn't easily shaken from it. And unfortunately this particular idea had an unfortunate amount of sense. "I can't stand against her, Izzie. She's my betrothed and my queen. I have sworn myself twice to her. I-- I can't take that back. I can't break my word."

"Just because you swore an oath doesn't mean you have to do everything she tells you to!" Isabelle insisted. She reached out, her voice breaking. "Lili, you've never been a fool. Don't start now. You know what she wants to do is wrong."

Lilian got shakily back to her tentacles. "She is my queen. Whatever she wants to do is the right thing, Isabelle. I-- I'm going to forget we ever had this conversation."

"Lili--" Isabelle's tentacles snared Lilian's as Lilian tried to back off. "Don't let her use you like this. Not after what she's done to you. To everyone."

Lilian couldn't pull away again. Her heart ached. "Izzie--"

"Just--" Isabelle reached out and pressed her hand to Lilian's cheek. She was so unbearably close, a warmth radiating from her that Lilian couldn't stand. Her lips were so enticing, so close, so soft. Lust swirled with grief and betrayal. Lilian began to shake badly in place as Isabelle's hands slid down to her wrists. Her touch was so gentle and tender, so different from Sabine where everything was dominating force, attack and counter-attack, offense and defense. "Think about it, please. You swore an oath to protect the people too, you know."

Lilian leaned forward and pressed her lips to Isabelle's. Isabelle's lips parted for Lilian's mouth. She responded under Lilian's touch, her arms wrapping around Lilian's shoulders. Lilian leaned into the contact, closing her eyes as she rested her forehead against Isabelle's, pulling away from the kiss. She could feel Isabelle's breath against her lips, could feel Isabelle's heart race. Heat swirled through her and she kissed Isabelle again, feeling her heart rip open. Old emotions poured out-- want and love and everything she'd shoved down when Isabelle had married.

"I'll think about it," she promised, her voice shaking.

"Well, isn't this nice?" Lilian heard behind her, a voice cold with fury.

Lilian winced as she turned around. Standing in the doorway was Sabine, her eyes glittering with a deadly promise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second month of the new year everyone! Happy to make it this far. When I started this, I definitely didn't expect it to get quite this long or involved in terms of plot. I'm glad it did though! 
> 
> See you all next week!


	24. Prompt - Marking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabine reminds Lilian who she belongs to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional: Whipping, extremely dubious consent, branding, blood, marking, abusive partner, sex as punishment, biting, bruising, mirror sex, mind control, did I mention extremely dubious consent? Bad BDSM. Did I mention the abusive partner?

The whip cracked a split second before the burn of the lash slammed against Lilian’s back. She jerked against the flare of pain, blinking away hot tears. It felt as if her skin had been stripped off, she half-expected to feel the drip of hot blood.

A hand rested on her back, a warm palm. Fingers stroked the edges of the lash, tracing across a map of lines written in raw agony and fading pain. The touch was almost unbearably tender, gentle strokes that lured Lilian into relaxing, uncoiling her tense muscles.

 _Crack._ The whip slammed into her back again. Lilian barely held back her scream. She twisted against the ropes that held her bent across the bed, coarse fibers digging into her skin and leaving it spotted with blood.

Another gentle touch, soothing the burn of the lash and making Lilian tremble. It was the gentleness between the pain that was her undoing. She’d taken beatings and torture, could handle the agony that came with a whip without coming undone. The pain faded into a throbbing drone eventually. But those gentle touches unraveled her, made each lash feel as if it was the first one.

“Who do you belong to?”

Sabine bent over Lilian’s shaking body, her breasts pressing against half-forgotten lashes. Fingers dug cruelly into the collar around Lilian’s throat and pulled. Spikes dug into Lilian’s skin, the tips of them so cold they burned. Lilian cried out as whipped muscles strained and her back was forced into a torturous arch. She tried to fight but she was at all the wrong angles, helplessly pinned between the bed and Sabine’s weight.

“Who does _this_ belong to?” Sabine demanded.

“You,” Lilian managed out, her world a haze of pain. “You. It belongs to you. Only you.”

Sabine released Lilian’s collar. Lilian fell back against the bed, sobbing with relief. It was the only thing holding her upright, the soft mattress supporting her exhausted, sweat-streaked body. She choked slightly as the spikes drove themselves again into her neck and struggled to keep her head up to relieve the pressure on her throat. It was getting harder to do so.

“What number were we on?” Sabine asked, almost amicably. The whip cracked and Lilian flinched, but there was no accompanying lash of fire. Sabine stroked her again, somehow remembering the placement of every stroke even though they left no mark on Lilian’s smooth skin. Claws dug into hidden welts, a memory of pain left by the whip’s magic. Lilian’s breath stopped as white fire burned away everything in her mind.

There wouldn’t be any marks on Lilian’s body. Not yet.

Lilian struggled to remember, rising from the ashes. It felt like they’d been at this for hours already but surely it hadn’t been that long. One of Sabine’s tentacles pressed between Lilian’s legs, forcing them to open wider. Sabine’s free hand wandered between them and a flush of heat that had nothing to do with pain rose to Lilian’s cheeks. She was wet despite the whip, or maybe because of it, Sabine carving out a new shape to Lilian’s pleasure.

“I—”

“If you cannot tell me,” Sabine said. Her fingers stroked the lips of Lilian’s sheath with a skill that made Lilian moan. She trembled, the sensation was almost too much but there would not be an end until Sabine dictated it. And Sabine had just begun. “We start over from the beginning.”

Lilian licked her lips. “Eighteen?”

“Are you sure?” Sabine’s voice was dangerously smooth. “Remember the consequences if you’re wrong.”

Lilian didn’t know but it was the last number she remembered. The consequences blurred in her mind. If she went over the count, the difference was doubled and added onto her total punishment. If she went under, Sabine would just accept the count as it was and the difference would be added onto the total punishment.

“Yes,” she said.

Sabine flicked out the whip. A new line of fire, across her shoulders. Surely the whip had taken skin with it. It felt like it had. She turned her head ever so slightly and spotted it, a lash of black fire emerging from a bone hilt. She dropped her head onto the blankets, forgetting the collar until the spikes were pressed against her skin again. Exhausted, she lifted her head once more.

“We are at fifteen,” Sabine said. “Six more strokes. We’re not doing very well, are we?”

“P-please—” Lilian begged. Sabine’s thumb circled a bud of flesh between Lilian’s legs. There were three of them, arranged in a little triangle around Lilian’s sheath, and then a fourth one buried deep inside. Three buds for Sabine to torment, so burningly sensitive. So very wet. Then Lilian forgot about the buds entirely as Sabine dug her nails into the welts once more, even as she pressed her thumb against a bud. Pain and pleasure overlapped and mingled, the intensity of one increasing the sensation of the other. Her world burned again in white fire. _“Please! Mercy! Sabine, I’m sorry! Mercy! Please!”_

“You brought this upon yourself,” Sabine told Lilian. She released pressure and Lilian again fell limp, panting harshly for breath. Her hands stroked Lilian’s thighs, her side. It was a long, slow stroke. It was almost a massage, almost a kindness. Too tender, too much. “Kissing another noble, giving away what’s mine.”

“I’m sorry,” Lilian croaked. “I’m sorry, I was weak. Forgive me.” She couldn’t take another lash. She’d been whipped bloody in the angel interrogation cells, had strips of her flesh carved from her body and injected with drugs that made her burn. But she broke after fifteen strikes from Sabine. She was brutally aware of every brush of air against her back, the coldness, the heat of Sabine’s fingers between her legs, the rawness of her wrists. Sensation made her head spin, made everything so much more. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

_Crack._

Lilian cried into the mattress, her scream muffled by the blankets. Crack, again, a lightning line of fire ripping into her back. She felt it in her bones, she swore she could. It was as if her very nerves were bared, as if Sabine had stripped away all the flesh that might cushion the impact.

_Crack._

A soothing touch again, turning the burn of pain into a heat that rolled through Lilian’s entire body. Her muscles tensed, relaxed, tensed again, dragging out the throb from the lashes. Lilian tasted blood and salty sweat- or maybe it was tears she could taste.

“Sorry doesn’t fix things,” Sabine said. _Crack_ and Lilian’s world went white again. She clung to a number, how many had it been? Eighteen? No, eighteen had been wrong. But that had been how many lashes ago? Her thoughts spiraled, she couldn’t focus. Her world was made from the swirling ashes of her thoughts and the fire of sensation burning in her blood. Her hips rolled against Sabine’s hands, her back arched when the whip struck. “Sorry doesn’t take back the fact that you kissed her.”

“I’m sorry,” Lilian whimpered again. She was feverish with heat, the world slipped and blurred around her. “I’m sorry. Mercy, please, Please, my queen. Mercy. Please, txchlr.” In the language of demons, it meant someone you served, someone you were sworn to. It meant they were master over you, as surely as if you were a slave. Sabine’s claws dug a new scream from Lilian’s throat. It was already raw from screaming and new pain rammed needles into Lilian’s nerves. “Mercy!”

“Do you deserve mercy?” Sabine’s breath was hot on Lilian’s ears. The whip coiled in front of Lilian’s eyes on the bed, black fire leaving a dark scorch on silk sheets. How was it not coated in blood? How was Lilian not bleeding? Lips closed around Lilian’s ear, teeth digging into soft flesh. “Do you deserve forgiveness? When you betrayed me the way you did?”

Lilian cried when Sabine bit her ear. Fingers twisted in her collar and pulled. She moaned, but that pain was dull now, insignificant in the face of everything else.

 _“Do you, Lilian?”_ Sabine grabbed one of the nubs and _squeezed._ Lilian howled, pain splitting a line through the pleasure, slicing it apart even as her Name rolled through her soul. She felt ripped open, vulnerable in the most intimate way as Sabine’s soul pressed against hers and crushed it beneath the weight of her Name. She tried uselessly to scramble away from Sabine once again. Hopeless, futile. There was nothing but Sabine as Sabine’s claws dug into the bud of flesh and her lips closed down on Lilian’s shoulder, hot tongue tracing the path of the whip.

“No— no,” Lilian stuttered out because it was the answer Sabine wanted, because it was the truth. She didn’t deserve it.

“Should I give it to you?” Sabine snarled.

“No,” the word was weak.

The whip cracked against her back when she least expected it. Lilian arched and screamed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that Lilian could think of saying. Tears streaked down her face. “Forgive me. Forgive me, please. I’ll never do it again. You’re the only one I love. I swear. I love you! I love you! Forgive me, I was weak.”

“We just covered this,” Sabine whipped her again. Lilian buried her head in the blankets as Sabine fingered her again, making sure she was still wet, made sure that her frustration was a weapon against her as much as the whip cracking against her back. She was skilled with those fingers, when she wanted to be. The pain of the collar seemed so minuscule, so insignificant and yet it was the thorn that broke her will. Sensations ran together, holding her together by a thousand sharp edges. “How can I ever trust you again? You betrayed me. You betrayed your oaths.”

“Please, please,” Lilian begged, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“We’re not even halfway done,” Sabine lifted the whip again. “Take your punishment without any more whining and I might forgive you. Keep screaming and I’ll double the lashes.”

Lilian bit the blankets beneath her as the whip cracked against her back again.

* * *

**Earlier - Firesong Auction**

The ride back to the palace was… uncomfortable to say the least. Sabine sat across from Lilian with perfect, frozen posture. Her back was straight, unyielding. They were no longer a couple out on a nice date but a queen and her general. A ruler and her misbehaving subject. A faithful fiancee and a cheating one. Sabine’s fury was a physical thing, scraping against Lilian’s nerves like the rasp of a steel blade being sharpened in preparation for the execution.

Isabelle had made her apologies to Sabine, of course. She’d provided them with a crate of the expensive golden wine and state-of-the-art toys and training tools, the most recent in development and the most effective. Lilian had tried to tell Sabine that it had been a moment of weakness, a combination of her broken heart and the stupid, stupid wine. Excuses had spilled from her lips, desperate and hurried and all too weak. Sabine had given them both cold looks and they had fallen silent.  
Isabelle had fled. Lilian couldn’t blame her.

The succubi had already been loaded into the carrier at the back of the carriage when they reached it. Sabine’s two succubi weren’t present, but Lilian’s three were. Lilian called for the workers to stop before they loaded up the feral and undid the feral’s muzzle and bindings so she would be a bit more comfortable. The feral darted into the carrier as soon as Lilian released her, which was somewhat encouraging. Hopefully she was grateful enough she would continue to behave. She just had to behave until Lilian could get her free.

The carrier would be a bit tight, but the succubi actually had a bit more space than Lilian had assumed. She fussed over them, if only because it delayed the moment when she would have to step into the carriage with Sabine. Blankets were called for, and cushions so that they wouldn’t bruise on the smooth wood floor. Lilian also had several workers fetch bolts of cloth that could be clipped to the mesh walls, giving the succubi some illusion of privacy.

“Play nice,” Lilian instructed. Her three glanced at each other, and then Errolr. Wariness showed in narrowed eyes and tails held still and alert. “Introduce yourselves to each other.”

It wasn’t an order, but they acted as if it was. Even as she clipped the final cloth into place, they began to reach for each other, sliding hands across delicate skin.  
Sabine waited impatiently inside the carriage. She had the box of training tools in her lap and occasionally pulled something from it to inspect it closer. She didn’t look up when Lilian stepped into the carriage. Lilian sat across from her, body stiff with tension and fear.

The soft moans, murmurs, and sighs of the succubi could be heard through the back of the carriage. Lilian pulled back the small curtain inside the carriage and glanced into the carrier. Tails waved lazily, wings fluttered. It was difficult to tell where one succubus began and another ended. That had been faster than she’d expected, not that she was bothered by it. It was good they were getting along.

“The introduction seems to be going well,” she said, letting the curtain slide back into place.

Sabine picked up a collar and examined it with interest. It was plain in appearance, a band of leather and steel with dull steel spikes lining the inside. Lilian could feel the magic charged within the collar and her guts began to twist into knots as she noted the expression on Sabine’s face. The queen said nothing as she slit open the pad of her finger and pressed the welling droplet of blood to a certain rune on the collar’s surface. It popped open with a click along a hidden hinge. Sabine let out a hum of satisfaction and closed the collar.

“Sabine?” Lilian asked, softly.

The queen looked up at Lilian and it took all of Lilian’s courage to not quail beneath the frosty glare. Worse than the glare, however, was the hurt behind it, the betrayal that lurked deep within Sabine’s eyes. Lilian’s mouth went completely dry and she found herself dropping her gaze to her hands. She twisted her fingers together.

Sabine set aside a few other items— a bone handle wrapped in leather with runes along the top and bottom, a set of steel and leather bands intricately designed with spell matrices, and a long ivory wand with a steel tip. The feral mark on the end meant it could generate pain as well as pleasure.

Lilian tried not to think about what Sabine meant to do with them. Neither of them spoke again as the carriage rolled down the streets to the palace.

* * *

One the seventy-first lash, the phantom whip drew the first strip of skin away from Lilian’s back. The body could only take so much punishment before it broke, even if the punishment in question wasn’t supposed to leave a mark.

By the ninety-second, lines of blood had split open along half-forgotten strokes as her body couldn’t take any more. Lilian’s blood was hot and dripped down her legs and tail, mingling with the dripping arousal that Sabine had dragged from her body. Desire and lust skated across her nerves, making them aware of every touch of Sabine’s fingers and hands. The air was so cold. She licked bitten, swollen lips and struggled to remember who she was, why she was there, the person behind her. There was nothing but sensation, both pain and pleasure pulling her into pieces, leaving the edges charred and broken.

Sabine grabbed Lilian and flipped her over. Lilian screamed when her back hit the blankets, the pain holding her paralyzed. Sabine’s hands fluttered across the twist of ropes at Lilian’s wrists, freeing them. A second later, tight bands of metal and leather closed around Lilian’s limbs instead. Magic tingled through Lilian’s body. She tried to lift her hands, but it was as her bones were made of lead. Too heavy, she could only lay there as Sabine spread her legs apart, forcing them down until Lilian’s knees hit the blankets on either side of her.

Bands closed around Lilian’s ankles next, and then her knees. The bands weighed her down, held her pinned open and so very vulnerable. She couldn’t lift herself from the bed, couldn’t close her legs even after Sabine backed away. There was a cruel twist to Sabine’s lips now as her fingers ghosted across sensitive buds of flesh. Every shift brought new pain from her bleeding, broken back. She still tried to get away from those terrible, terrible fingers, so skilled at turning pleasure into pain, pain into pleasure. So skilled at turning Lilian’s body against her.

Sabine’s fingers twisted sensitive buds of flesh. Lilian’s eyes rolled back in her head as sharp-edged pleasure ran like lightning through her entire body. Sabine’s nails dug into Lilian’s bleeding wounds and the pain itself grounded Lilian in the present, forcing her away from sweet oblivion, sweet unconsciousness. She was held on boundaries, dancing on blades.

“Who do you belong to?”

Lilian blinked up at Sabine, unable to process the sight of the queen as Sabine dug her fingers into Lilian’s collar and yanked it up. Lilian choked. Her limbs twisted in her restraints, her entire body straining as it was yanked in different directions. It was a new kind of pain, a new sear against her nerves.

“Who do you _belong_ to, general?” Sabine demanded. Her fingers tightened on Lilian’s buds, drawing a ragged cry from the general’s raw throat. Lilian’s eyes burned hot but she had cried out her tears a long time ago and she was left dry now. There seemed to be no liquid left within her body, the heat had boiled it all away. But still she bled and dripped upon Sabine’s fingers.

“You, txchlr, I belong to you. Only you. Only ever you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I belong to you.” Lilian said the words as if they were a prayer to an absent god. They fell from her lips, a desperate cry for mercy and relief. “I belong to you. I belong to you.”

Sabine released the collar. Lilian collapsed back onto the bed and stared up at Sabine with bleary eyes. The queen stood over her, an ivory wand clenched tight in one hand. The tip glowed like a piece of the sun. Lilian watched, hypnotized, as Sabine twirled the wand in her hand. Sabine’s eyes trailed across Lilian’s body and Lilian fought the urge to whimper as the tip of the wand hovered above her skin. “That’s right, general. You’re mine. And you’re going to bear my mark so that any cheater will know you belong to me.”

She pressed the tip to Lilian’s skin. Lilian howled, her entire body arching against the bands. She thrashed as she heard her flesh sizzle as zapping sparks leapt from the wand. She felt it as Sabine carved her name into the skin above her breasts in raw agony. Then Sabine lowered the wand again, carving her name anew on Lilian’s hip, putting her sigil on the flat of Lilian’s belly and shoulder. She marked Lilian again and again with herself, branding her as if she were an errant slave.

Blood oozed from the wounds. Lilian could do nothing more than whimper, trying to twist away as Sabine carved her mark deeper.

Then Sabine did it again. The wand dragged waves of pleasure across Lilan as Sabine went over her marks.

Pain.

Pleasure.

_Pain._

_Pleasure._

Lilian barely registered it when Sabine grabbed her by the collar and dragged her from the bed. Her body left streaks of black blood on the floor as she struggled to keep up on hands and knees, the tight bands around her limbs making movement almost impossible. Her head spun as Sabine brought her to the baths and dropped her in front of the massive mirror that lined one wall.

Lilian lifted her head. She saw herself, coated in blood and Sabine’s sigil, the crest of the crown, Sabine’s many names. Sabine’s marks spread across her skin in a map of agony and pleasure. Behind her, the queen stood proud, one hand resting on the back of Lilian’s neck. Her grip on the collar tightened, digging steel spikes into Lilian’s neck.

A master standing over a broken slave.

“Who do you belong to?” Sabine demanded.

“Y-you,” Lilian’s voice trembled as she answered.

Sabine dragged Lilian up and pressed her back against the mirror. Her lips captured Lilian’s in a searing kiss, a bruising kiss. Sharp teeth drew new bloody wounds. A hot tongue pressed into Lilian’s mouth, dominating her utterly and destroying any last resistance. Lilian crumpled, Sabine was the only thing holding her up. The queen broke off the kiss and Lilian gasped for air while Sabine went for her neck.

A brush of lips against the crook of her neck, where succubi were bonded. Sabine sucked at the spot, her tongue swiping across Lilian’s feverish flesh, somehow managing to be hotter than Lilian herself. Lilian moaned at the touch of Sabine’s lips, the bruising force of her lips. Lilian would have passed out from the pain if Sabine’s hands weren’t digging into her bleeding lashes at the same time. The kiss ended, teeth bit down.

A new mark. A different mark.

Sabine pulled away from the spot. Lilian gasped from the release and then cried out again as Sabine attacked the other side of her neck.

The queen’s kisses left bruises in their wake, bruises and blood oozing from her bites. Some were brutal from the outset, all force and fire and pain. Some were deceptively tender, Sabine teasing Lilian’s skin with her soft breath, her hot tongue before her teeth broke apart Lilian’s flesh. Lilian never knew what to expect, couldn’t prepare or brace against pain and pleasure alike. The queen carved a line of both on Lilian’s collarbones and shoulders, leaving behind tracks of mottled skin.

Sabine’s hands dug into Lilian’s hair, twisting it and holding her head pinned down to the mirror so the spikes on the collar dug into Lilian’s neck. Lilian groaned, fighting Sabine’s grip as the queen’s breath hovered just above Lilian’s nipples.

Her teeth closed down on them first. Lilian howled, a piercing scream dragged from a voice that had broken ages ago. Sabine yanked on Lilian’s hair, cutting it off.

“Mine,” she snarled. “You’re mine and you will learn that! Let your precious noble kiss you now. Let her see my mark on your body. Will she find you so attractive now?”

A hot tongue swiped across Lilian’s nipple, licking away blood. Lilian shuddered at the stimulation. Her body rolled on the edge of an orgasm. She might like to dominate others, but Sabine was a master of pain and pleasure and her attention was on Lilian. Lilian shattered beneath it again and again as Sabine broke her into smaller and smaller pieces.

“What is this?” Sabine demanded. She turned Lilian around, dragged her away from the bloody smear on the mirror. Her hands in Lilian’s hair forced her head up, forcing Lilian to see herself bruised and bleeding, marked in a thousand and one ways through a veil of black blood. “Who does this belong to?!”

“Yours,” Lilian gasped out. “All yours. Only yours.”

“Don’t you dare _forget_ it,” Sabine snarled.

Sabine left her mark on Lilian’s hips, her claws leaving an impression of feral brands on each side. She raked more into Lilian’s thighs, leaving slashes of dark blood behind. And Archdemons, Lilian hurt, but she was hot too, shoved so close to an orgasm that she ached for the pain as much as the pleasure, shaking with her need.

The master forced her broken slave onto her hands and knees. Lilian cried out as she hit the tile. Sabine forced her to watch herself in the mirror as tentacles pulled her legs apart, bearing her vulnerable to Sabine’s tentacles. Her wrists were locked behind her back, the bands fusing the moment they touched each other, even as the ones on her ankles and knees attached themselves to the ground.

Lilian panted as she watched Sabine’s tentacles ripple. A moment later she felt them prodding around her sheath. The brief touch was her only warning as Sabine lined herself up. Then they slammed home, jerking Lilian forward. Only Sabine’s grip on her collar and the tentacles around her shoulders held her in place as the force of the thrust dragged her restraints across the tile with a terrible shriek of magic through Lilian’s body. She twisted upon the tentacles.

“What does _this_ belong to?” Sabine repeated.

“You,” Lilian answered.

“You are going to watch me fuck you,” Sabine hissed in Lilian’s ear. “You are going to watch as I turn you into a mewling wreck, a pile of twitching limbs in a puddle of fluid. And you will thank me for my mercy. This belongs to me, this body, this mind, this soul. It is mine, not yours. And if you ever forget it, I will carve my name into you again until you remember.”

* * *

**Earlier - Lilian's Apartment**

Lilian settled her three new succubi in her apartment and made arrangements for them to be prepared for a life in Thalassia. There was no way she was going to leave them here and possibly be subjected to Sabine’s wrath. Lilian also left messages for Allison and Mirri. She requested sanctuary for the three from Allison, and informed Mirri of their future guests.

Mirri’s response was… well, predictably upset that Lilian had decided to do this without telling her but otherwise understanding. In what was hopefully a good sign, she suggested ways they could adjust the apartment to accomodate the three of them. Lilian did notice that the suggested arrangement included Mirri moving into Lilian’s bedroom permanently, but didn’t have the energy or emotional batteries to tease her kitten about it.

Mirri’s day seemed rather normal. She’d spoken to Allison about potentially going to see the free succubi community one day and showed Lilian brochures of places that she’d looked up on the scroll for potential trips. There had to be at least fifteen of them, although Mirri had helpfully included a ‘favorites’ list. She’d also sent Lilian a list of kinks and fetishes as well as multiple links to several erotica pieces that made Lilian flush just scanning the synopses.

Her kitten had no right to look as innocent as she did.

 _You’ve been hard at work_. Lilian typed out.

_< 3 You left me a job to do, Missy._

_So I did. You’ve been a very good kitten._

_Good! I’m trying. Are you okay? You seem… subdued?_

“Who are you texting?” Sabine asked suddenly, appearing in the door of Lilian’s apartment. She was dressed in one of her normal gowns now, a thing of black with electric blue trim all around the hems. Some of the tension from before had left her posture, but there was a look in her eye that made something deep within Lilian clench unpleasantly.

“Just a friend,” Lilian said, quickly hitting the send button. _Kitten, I’m fine._ Then she closed the scroll and looked up at Sabine.

The queen’s expression darkened. “A friend, huh? Not the same noble from before, is it?”

“No,” Lilian shook her head. Her heart twisted slightly. The easiest and fastest way to get Sabine off her back was to tell part of the truth. The queen suspected that Lilian would be cheating whatever she said, but she wouldn’t be territorial about it if it was a succubus. They were just slaves after all, inferior, not worthy of jealousy. “She’s a— a succubus.”

Instantly the tension left Sabine, she even laughed. “Ah, I see. Why don’t you bring her here? She would be much happier in the palace than— well, wherever she is.”

“I wouldn’t want to uproot her,” Lilian said, shoving down a no as deep as it would go. Mirri would never see a glimpse of Hell if Lilian had her way. Her kitten would live free and happy. The only collar she would wear would be the one she accepted for herself. “She’s attached to a house already anyway. Wouldn’t bond with me if I asked.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Sabine said. She sat down on Lilian’s bed and Lilian sat down beside her. “Do you love her, Lilian?”

“The succubus?” Lilian asked, frowning.

“The noble,” Sabine said. “Do you love her?” There was a brittle edge to her voice. Sharp and cutting, yes, but also so very fragile. Lilian had put it there and her heart twisted again. Stupid incubus. Stupid, weak Lilian. She’d ruined everything with a single kiss. She wished she’d never let Isabelle talk, wished she’d never listened. She wished she could just erase that part of the day.

“No,” Lilian said, and it was the truth. “I’m afraid it was just the alcohol. And my own weakness.”

Sabine sighed as she leaned back. “I’m glad to hear that. I— I haven’t been the best fiancee to you, my love.”

 _No. You haven’t._ “What do you mean? You’re the best woman an incubus could ask for.”

Sabine smiled faintly at Lilian. “No need to lie, my dear.”

“I’m not lying,” Lilian said.

“Of course you’re not,” Sabine said. The brittleness remained and the tension turned into an edge that cut along Lilian’s anxiety. “What did she say to you?”

“The noble?” Lilian asked, just for clarification.

“Yes,” Sabine said. “I assumed she said something. You— you are not weak, my love.”

Lilian hesitated, wondering just how much to tell Sabine. She didn’t want the queen to hurt her friend and ex-lover. Isabelle had acted out of desire to protect the incubi, after all. And Lilian herself had doubts about Sabine’s plan for war. But she also wanted Sabine to deny Isabelle’s words, say that Isabelle had lied and that her kitten had never been in danger at all. That Sabine loved their kitten as much as Lilian did. She just wanted to hear Sabine say it.

“She told me that you—” Lilian hesitated again. She met Sabine’s eyes, searching them. “That you told our kitten to assassinate you in order to get rid of her.”

Sabine hesitated. “Don’t be foolish.”

But she had hesitated. Lilian’s heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces and they all burned as they ripped through her body. She let out a cry and lunged at Sabine.

“ _How could you?!”_ Her hands closed around Sabine’s throat, her claws digging into Sabine’s smooth skin. Drops of blood welled up, hot against Lilian’s fingers. All she could see was red. All she could see was her kitten dying beneath her hands, her body splayed open in a hundred different pieces. All she could see was the glow of a brand and her kitten thrashing in her chains as she cried that she never meant to hurt anyone at all. “How could you?! I loved her! I loved her! And you— _You!”_

The sound of her Name crashed into her.

Lilian sank to the ground on her knees, shuddering as she fought against the full weight of her name. She was helpless beneath it, her body no longer at her own command. Her fury provided a buffer, but fury burned away and a deep calm slid through her as Sabine called her Name again, a siren song. It left little in its wake. She had been angry at something, infuriated. But she couldn’t remember what it was.

There was only Sabine, composing herself as she clutched her throat. Her hand came away bloody.

“What happened?” Lilian asked, blinking sluggishly. There was something important, something that flitted around the borders of her mind, desperately trying to break in. She couldn’t remember it at all and it escaped from her grip like smoke in the wind. Her eyes were caught by the deep punctures in Sabine’s throat. “Who attacked you?”

Sabine rubbed her throat, wincing. The motion left streaks across her neck as if it had been slit open. “I’m afraid it was you, Lilian.”

“What?” Lilian asked. “No, I wouldn’t have—”

Sabine smiled, a brittle thing that did not reach her darkened eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, my love. Someone planted a trigger within your mind so that you would attack me.”  
Lilian blinked. Something sounded wrong about that. She tried to remember what had happened once again. She’d ask Sabine a question, an important question. The embers of her rage still burned in her blood. But what had ignited it? The answer of a trigger felt right. She vaguely remembered the sensation of something snapping within her.

“Trigger?”

Sabine reached down, cupped Lilian’s face with her hands. She drew Lilian back up beside her on the bed. “They told you a filthy lie, my love. When you spoke it aloud, it triggered your fury and anger, incited bloodlust until you did not know me. I have taken care of it, there is no need to fear.”

Lilian relaxed into Sabine’s touch, but her words left her feeling cold in places where Sabine’s words couldn’t go. “What lie, Sabine? I cannot imagine anything that would anger me enough to attack you.”

“They claimed that I wished to kill our dear kitten,” Sabine said. “That I arranged for her to assassinate me to be rid of her.”

That did sound familiar, now that she said it. Lilian swallowed, feeling Sabine’s claws rest against her throat. The embers rose, but not into flame. Sabine had been right. She’d taken care of the trigger. Still, the words echoed something within Lilian. Old fears, new terrors. She looked at Sabine, searching her queen’s gaze.

“Did you?” Lilian couldn’t help but to ask.

“Did I not say it was a lie?” The claws dug into Lilian’s skin. “Lilian, do not be foolish. Do not let that noble tear you from my side.”

“You were jealous of her,” Lilian said. “You took advantage of her death.” She looked up at Sabine, her queen. She saw the streaks of blood across her throat like a mark of death. Delicate bruises had begun to blossom there.

“I wished to make the best of a terrible situation, my love,” Sabine said, her thumb swiping across Lilian’s cheek. The gesture felt possessive. Every touch felt as if Sabine was trying to lay claim on Lilian. “Besides, she was a pet, just a succubus. She was made to serve us in all matters. With her body, with her heart and soul. With her death, if so we demand it.”

Just a succubus. The careless words made Lilian’s heart burn. She pulled away from Sabine. “How can you say that? I loved her.”

“Yes,” Sabine said. “Yes, you loved her. But she was a pet, nothing more. It is good that you mourned her, but this is getting ridiculous, Lilian. There are a thousand pets that are just like her! Get over her!”

“I can’t! I won’t! They are more than pets! She was more than a pet!” Lilian shouted. The words burst from her throat, shoved down as they’d been for so long.

Sabine’s eyes went dark. “Do not take that tone with me, my love.”

“They are not inferior to us,” Lilian said, quieter but her voice was just as hard.

Sabine’s nostrils flared. “Did she put those words in your head, my love?”

It was strange, how slimy those two words could make Lilian feel. How different it was since the first time Sabine had whispered them against her skin. How had Lilian changed so much and Sabine not at all? Her heart trembled in her chest. “No. They are mine and mine alone.”

“This,” Sabine said. “Is why I never wanted you to leave Hell. You have always been soft with the pets and they have obviously softened you even more.”

“Thinking that they deserve freedom isn’t softness.”

“They were made to serve, Lilian,” Sabine snapped out. “They were made to please their superiors, they were conceived as slaves—”

“And so were we!” Lilian shouted at her again. “So were we, Sabine. The archdemons made us to serve them. It might not be on our knees with our legs spread, but we were made to serve regardless! We are no different. We broke our chains with their help, and then we turned around and collared them.”

“Be quiet!” Sabine snarled.

Lilian lunged at her, seeing the first syllables of her Name on Sabine’s lips. If she could shut Sabine up, if she could keep her Name from being spoken, if she was just fast enough—

Too late. She braced against the sound of it, steeling her soul to resist. But this time Sabine was using it as a sledgehammer and scalpel. It closed tight around Lilian’s soul, a lash made of fire, wires cutting deep into the core of who she was. She fell to the ground, screaming as Sabine continued to speak. Her Name rang in her ears again and again, who she was being twisted and knotted and snarled up, contorted and crushed and shattered. And then Sabine reached into Lilian’s soul with fingers made of blades and _cut and cut and cut_ —

— She woke on Sabine’s bed. Sabine sat beside her, a leather and steel ring in her hands. Spikes lined the inside. A collar. It was a collar. Lilian vaguely remembered seeing something like it before but her memories were so very fuzzy. There were other things in Sabine’s lap too, a bone-handled thing and more steel and leather bands stacked up on the night-table.

“What— what happened?” Lilian asked shakily. She felt… she felt violated somehow. And hollow. As if someone had cut into her and removed something vital. Her mind skittered, she could feel the edges of the hole in herself, but she couldn’t figure out its shape. She shook in place, pressing a hand to her heart. “Sabine… Sabine what happened? I can’t remember— are you okay, my love? Your— your throat! Who did this to you?”

“You did,” Sabine said.

“What?” No. Lilian would never do it. She couldn’t have. “You must be mistaken.”

“I’m not,” Sabine’s voice was cold. She turned to face Lilian, her eyes burning as if they were on fire. “I’m disappointed in you, Lilian.”

“Disappointed?” Lilian didn’t understand. “What do you mean I attacked you? Sabine, please— I don’t understand.” She reached out for Sabine and her queen flinched away from her. Lilian’s hands dropped to her side.

“You kissed a noble, do you remember that?” Sabine asked, her voice terrifyingly still.

Lilian hesitated. “I— yes. I do.”

“She planted something within you, my love,” Sabine said. Her hand lifted up Lilian’s chin, claws cutting into Lilian’s jaw. “A hatred for me. Blasphemy against everything this kingdom stands for. Because you let her worm her way into your head and press her lips to yours.”

Lilian opened her mouth, closed it. “I—”

“I’m disappointed in you,” Sabine said and Lilian looked away.

“Forgive me,” Lilian said. “I— I don’t know what came over me.”

“Tell me her name,” Sabine said. “The one who took you aside earlier.”

Lilian opened her mouth— and hesitated. Isabelle had been the one to take her aside. Isabelle, her former lover, a friend who had once been so very close to her. Surely Isabelle wouldn’t have done such a thing. Her queen must be mistaken. There must be something else going on. “Are you sure it was her? Perhaps it was another?”

Sabine traced her thumb along Lilian’s jaw. “She tried to use you against me, Lilian. The way that rebels tried to use our dear kitten against us. Such vile treachery will not fester in my kingdom.”

Lilian bowed her head. “Isabelle— Isabelle Nylianne. But Sabine— she wouldn’t. She has spoken against the crown occasionally, but she loves our people. She would never—”  
Sabine pressed a kiss to Lilian’s forehead. “Let me worry about that, my love. You need do nothing. You have a war to fight, after all. Let me worry about the traitors within our ranks.”

“Yes,” Lilian murmured. The war that Sabine was planning, the one that would leave them the unquestioned rulers of hell in its entirety, not just the Kingdom of Lust. She would have to protect her people, lead them to victory. It was her duty as a general. It was her pleasure to serve. Her triumphs would bring honor and glory to Sabine’s name, gild her rule in power. “The war. I must focus on that. Forgive me, Sabine. I— I don’t know why I let her— I love you. Only you.”

Sabine stroked Lilian’s jaw, then her throat. Lilian shivered under the contact. Then she pulled away. “Do you? Love me?”

“What?! Of course.”

Sabine looked down at the collar in her lap. She opened it and then held out the ring of steel and leather to Lilian. “Prove it to me. Prove to me that you love me, that you are mine.”

Lilian stared at the collar.

Then, with shaking hands, she reached out and took it from Sabine.

* * *

It was one thing to dominate a succubus. Any incubus could do that. Succubi were inferior creatures, born to serve their masters. Even those that were born wild, the abominations with a tendency to dominate that no amount of cultivation seemed to breed out, were broken to the collar one way or another. The vast majority of them were submissive to a fault, presenting themselves willingly as was right.

It was another thing to dominate an incubus, a master, a superior creature. Sabine’s heart had begun to race the moment that Lilian had accepted the training collar and latched it shut around her throat. Hot lust warred with cold fury and both left her burning for vastly different reasons.

Breaking Lilian, drawing the first scream, the first sob, the first cry for _mercy_ — the sounds were so sweet to Sabine’s ears and she pushed harder and harder, further and further, dragging more from Lilian’s throat. Her general, unbreakable for so many, broke so beautifully beneath Sabine’s hands into jagged shards of pride and dignity. She was magnificent, deep red-violet skin streaked by black blood and mottled in Sabine’s marks. Each fueled the possession in Sabine’s heart as she dug her claws in and carved another curve, another line. She bit more crescents into Lilian’s shoulders because she could, because the powerful general was helpless beneath her.

How far could she push before the general’s pride and dignity demanded the queen’s destruction? Before the tiger realized how much power it had and turned on its master? How far could she go, before she broke Lilian’s spirit and not just her pride? How far could she go? Sabine ached for more and more, to slice away the layers of who Lilian was, to carve out that perfect general into the perfect toy. She wanted to hollow out spirit and soul with blades made of pain and pleasure, to break and to leave Lilian in nothing but the tear-stained ruins of herself. She longed for Lilian to turn on her and rip her apart, find that seed deep within that craved pain and snap it open the way she was doing to Lilian.

Lilian looked so perfect, her back arched in submission, collar digging into her throat. She looked so perfect, with Sabine’s tentacles nearly a foot deep in her body, her sheath and arse stretched almost obscenely around Sabine’s thick tentacles, so much thicker than any sword. Many a treatise was written about the nearly unbreakable limit of a succubi’s sexual flexibility and use, but far fewer were written about the fact that the archdemons had given their predators a similar limit. Most incubi were sadists, but buried deep beneath their cruelty was a love for pain that had been written in their very foundations.

Sabine pushed her tentacles deeper and dragged a ragged cry from Lilian’s throat. Her general’s body clenched around Sabine’s tentacles, a thrill of sensation that made Sabine twist them, pushing up against the bud buried deep within Lilian’s sheath. A moan now, sweet as any honey, oh so satisfying to Sabine’s ears. Had her general been better, Sabine would rock Lilian into a slow, rolling orgasm, the kind that lingered in the body.

But her general had been bad and Sabine wasn’t feeling particularly merciful. Instead she fucked Lilian at a pace that drove Lilian’s bruised body into the tile beneath them. She kept her general in that agonizing arch of blood and bone and flesh as she did so, forcing her general to watch as her body became nothing more than a toy for the queen’s use. She refused her general a chance to breathe, a chance to recover as she was pounded into the ground.

Lilian struggled to get away, a helpless mewl escaping from her. It was a sound that befitted a punished succubi more than the highest general amongst the incubi. Her attempt to escape was equally pathetic, the bands were more than enough to fix her in place, even if Sabine had no intention of letting her leave.

Sabine wrapped her tentacles around Lilian’s legs, letting her crawl away just so she could feel it as Sabine drag her back beneath her. Lilian’s breath was driven from her again, shorts bursts of air that didn’t have time to become screams as Sabine let her weight bear down on the helpless general. Her eyes were fully glazed over, her general was lost to sensation. Sabine drove her claws into Lilian’s bleeding body until the glaze sharpened into raw agony and awareness and then she shoved Lilian down again.

She ripped an orgasm from Lilian’s overtaxed, overstimulated body. Lilian collapsed, a beautiful sprawl of limbs and sweat and twilight-purple hair spread carelessly across the ground. Sabine dragged her back up, forced a second tentacle in beside the first one in Lilian’s tight sheath. Lilian’s body twitched uselessly around Sabine, her fingers stretched out helplessly, claws digging into the bands around her wrists. Her harsh pants stopped as Sabine rammed into her again, her legs splaying out in a paltry plea for better stability.

Sabine yanked on Lilian’s collar. The general clawed at her throat uselessly, her eyes rolling back in her head. Pretty little doll, pretty toy.

Lilian came a second time. And then a third, a fourth and a fifth. Sabine pulled orgasms from Lilian’s body until it couldn’t give her anymore and Sabine ripped more yet from her, extracting them with the efficiency of a master interrogator. She kept going, forcing more and more from her general, amazed at how much Lilian could truly bear.

Lilian had long gone silent, long stopped fighting. Not even pain could drag her back to full awareness as she stared blankly at the mirror. Her body convulsed around Sabine’s tentacles, so tight, so wet, so very hot. Her body left streaks of blood beneath her. Blood and arousal, tears and climax.

Sabine burned. She ached for stimulation herself, for someone to attend to the buds and sheaths beneath her tentacles.

Her tentacles pulled free of Lilian’s body with a wet sucking sound, dripping with arousal, thick lubricant, and Lilian’s orgasms. It left a lewd flood of fluid on the floor, mingling with blood, tears, and sweat. The ruin of Lilian’s body stretched out before Sabine, and it was a glorious thing to behold. Her general stirred slightly when Sabine pulled free, her fingers twitching slightly, claws sliding across deep scores they had left in the tile.

Sabine had kept her promise. There was nothing in Lilian now but a pile of twitching limbs in a puddle of fluid.

Beautiful bruises. Beautiful blood. Beautiful, beautiful marks, claiming Lilian for her own.

Sabine stroked Lilian’s shoulder, tracing a line that blood had drawn upon Lilian’s skin. The general tensed beneath Sabine’s touch, but there was no energy left in her to move, to cry, to whimper or plead or beg. She couldn’t even move her head until Sabine did it for her, her eyes staring pleadingly into Sabine’s. They asked for mercy.

“So beautiful,” Sabine purred, pressing her fingers into darkening bruises. Lilian gasped weakly, her fingers twitching again. It was the only motion her exhausted general could manage. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful broken toy. And she was all Sabine’s. Sabine’s to carve and to mold, oh so carefully in to the shape she wanted. What would the noble have done with Lilian? What would a trainer of mere succubi could accomplish with this priceless treasure? Only by Sabine’s hand could the jewel deep within shine.

But diamonds needed to be cut before they sparkled, freed from their rough stone prison. And so to Lilian must be sliced apart and hardened, polished for her full potential to be realized.

Sabine nuzzled the bites on Lilian’s neck as she carried Lilian back into her bedroom. Errolr waited there, as did the two new succubi. They kneeled at the foot of the bed and she could smell their fear and distress at the sight of blood. They looked up with wide eyes as Sabine dropped the general in front of them. Errolr reached out, as if to touch her, before remembering himself.

Lilian somehow managed to lift her head, she’d regained enough strength that her eyes had cleared. She found herself staring at Errolr as Sabine circled around them, considering the best way to get things done. She perched on the bed, shifting so that she had a pair of legs that was somewhat easier to manage.

“Take her,” Sabine said. The succubi looked at each other in confusion and fear.

Lilian’s lips moved. It might have been a no. There was no breath behind it to give it sound. Sabine curled a tentacle around Lilian’s throat and yanked. The general twitched helplessly and then went limp.

“Take her,” Sabine ordered again, irritated that she had to instruct them on the littlest of things. “One in the mouth, one in the rear, one in her sheath. I don’t care how you manage to do it. I want to see your swords buried to the hilt in her body.”

Another slight movement of Lilian’s mouth. Almost a please.

Errolr hesitantly crept forward on his hands and knees, settling the general’s head in his lap. The other two just as fearfully positioned themselves around her before looking at Sabine again.

“Fuck her until she screams,” Sabine said. She riffled through her toys, in a drawer beside her bed. She found one of her favorites and tapped it against her hand, feeling the buzz. It would do well enough. Once they were done, she would have the three of them attend to her properly. “And then keep going until she blacks out. Keep hesitating and I’ll strap you to the scaffold and you’ll get far worse than this.”

Errolr glanced at the others and nodded. Lilian didn’t have the strength to fight off the pets as they slid themselves into her body and began to move.

Sabine leaned back and pressed her toy against her sheath, stroking herself. She was already so hot and needy, but she only came at the sound of the first renewed scream ripped from Lilian’s throat.

* * *

A dull, blinking light flashed into Lilian’s eyes. She forced them open, staring blearily at the flashing ruby on her bracelet. Blood streaked the golden band and dulled the ruby’s red fire. It was important somehow. Lilian’s scattered thoughts struggled to coalesce into something meaningful. Not something important, someone. Someone that Lilian had to protect, had to keep happy. It was vital.

Nails dug into the the stripes of broken skin across her shoulders. Lilian’s breath hitched unevenly as her thoughts scattered. Pain throbbed through her entire body, igniting a fresh fire as a body pressed against hers. The heat of a body at her back was nearly unbearable, but Lilian couldn’t move. She was pinned beneath another, trapped within a cruelly tender embrace.

“Shut it off,” Sabine grumbled. Her head rested in the crook of Lilian’s neck, pressing the spikes of Lilian’s collar into her skin. Lilian couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped her. She tried to pull away as Sabine’s lips pressed against bruised skin. Teeth dug into the wound, a hot tongue swiping across the throbbing flesh.

No, it was important. Very important.

 _“Lilian, shut it off,”_ it was a command, a low growl. Lilian shuddered as her Name swept through her, striking her in her deepest self. She swiped her fingers across the ruby as if caught in a dream, watching the blinking red light fade away. Her heart twisted in her chest. That call had been important. She needed to take it. The person on the other side was important.

Sabine rolled Lilian onto her back and Lilian cried out as her wounds pressed into the mattress. She writhed helplessly as Sabine nuzzled her, hot breath against cold skin. Flakes of blood peeled off and new blood oozed from the deep scores in Lilian’s arms. Sabine marked her again, digging her teeth painfully into a half-healed wound and ripping it open again.

“Who do you belong to?” she growled and her tentacles twisted against Lilian’s limbs, pinning Lilian open even though Lilian had no fight left to offer her.

“You,” Lilian gasped out helplessly. “Only you.”

Sabine nuzzled her as her tentacles pressed against Lilian’s swollen sheath. There was nowhere to move, but she still fought Sabine helplessly as Sabine’s tentacles began to slide into raw flesh. She whimpered and Sabine silenced her with a kiss that held bruising force. Sabine’s teeth dug into Lilian’s lips and Lilian tasted blood. She twisted, but there was nowhere to go, only Sabine. There was only ever Sabine.

“That’s right,” Sabine purred, breaking the kiss. Her hands stroked Lilian’s tear-streaked face. “Good girl. Good general. You belong to me. Only me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... if anyone didn't really have a reason to hate Sabine yet but wanted to.... here you go?
> 
> *glances around worriedly as something growls in the shadows. Quickly gets up and locks the door before sitting down again.*
> 
> So, if Mirri doesn't kill me before next week, we'll get to see their reunion! It feels like forever since they've been in the same room. We'll also get a proper introduction to the three succubi that Lilian purchased although probably not as fun as the one Errolr got.
> 
> As for some unrelated news: I'm posting this early because I will be busy this weekend. Also, I am officially over a hundred thousand words as of last chapter! This is literally the most I've written for in any project and it feels like an enormous milestone! Especially since I'm not even close to being done yet. And honestly? A lot of my current momentum has come from reading your comments and reactions. So I just wanted to say huge thank you to everyone who's reading this. You guys are amazing.
> 
> See you all next week!
> 
> *growling gets louder*
> 
> ... Hopefully.


	25. Break 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lilian and Mirri take a break

Lilian: Mirri... Kitten... wake up, sweet kitten. We need to get to work

Mirri: Zzzz

Lilian: But everyone's waiting on us!

Mirri: ... But I'm comfortable?

Lilian: Come on, Kitten. You want our reunion, don't you? The author can't do it on her own!

Mirri: ... Carry me?

Lilian: Lazy kitten, alright, climb on.

Mirri: You're really warm...

Lilian: I love you too, kitten.

Mirri: Zzzzzz

Lilian: Mirri?

Mirri: Zzz

Lilian: Kitten, I know you're awake.

Mirri: Your tentacles are really handsy, you know that?

Lilian: Oh, Kitten...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No chapter for this week. I'm really sorry guys, I wanted to get Mirri and Lilian back together but life had other plans for me. I do have about half of the chapter done, but certain characters are giving me a bit of trouble *glares at a particular succubus* and several sections need a major rework. I hope the sketch makes up for it? *starts sweating*
> 
> Anyway, once again, I'm sorry. Take care everyone. See you next week!


	26. Eighteen - Morning Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Lilian wakes up. Mirri waits patiently.

_Teeth sank beneath Mirri’s skin. The pain was brief, replaced by a dull pressure and then a sweeping warmth. She moaned, her body twisting beneath a more powerful one as tentacles settled deeper within her, pressing up satisfactorily against muscle and filling the aching emptiness with sensation. Pheromones surrounded her, a haze of golden pleasure that thickened time until it became honey. The weight settled, familiar and needed, pinning her securely in place. She shuddered with her heat, burning and cold at the same time and whimpered softly._

_She nuzzled soft skin and red-violet fingers tucked her hair behind her ear as the teeth pulled away from her neck. Lips pressed against her forehead as she closed her mouth around fingers dripping with sweetness. She had never imagined the bonding could be like this. The incubi had told her it would be all force and fire, that her submission would be demanded and it would be complete. They never told her that it could be so sweet, that she could want to submit. That the terrible general could fulfill something she hadn’t even known she’d been missing._

_Her name rolled through her, the sweet strings of a harp rippling through her soul. A melody for her and her mistress alone, pulling her closer to the general. She let out a soft moan as the tentacles began to pump slowly within her, a slow, smooth rhythm that could go on for days— that would go on for days, until the fierce heat in her body broke and she became irrevocably hers. The mistress said her name again, making her shiver against her mistress’s chest. Her fingers curled around tentacles, lips claiming hers now as she was wrapped in warmth._

_“Mine,” her mistress said. The hands returned, gentle but possessive. “Beautiful one. Fragile one. You are mine.” Her name, ringing through the deepest parts of her soul. She cried softly as she twisted on the edge of an orgasm that wasn’t coming— wasn’t ever going to come— until the bond was over. She could only remain in her mistress’s tentacles and pray that her mistress would embrace her and not leave her aching and alone and empty. She had been trained to bear such a thing— the masters and mistresses were busy and a bonding heat didn’t really need them to be there until the very end._

_A hand swiped across her cheeks and pushed away hot tears. She gazed up into soft eyes and whimpered as her mistress dabbed at her cheeks. “Hush little one. No tears now. I’m not that terrible, am I?”_

_She shook her head but she still continued to cry from the terrible feverish heat. A hand slid across her hair. She tensed, waiting for fingers to twist in her locks and hold her firm, but the mistress just continued to stroke her hair. It was soothing and she relaxed again, letting her head fall into her mistress’s secure embrace as tentacles tightened around her body. She was being shifted, repositioned so that she lay on top of her mistress as her mistress drew the blankets over them. The silk slid against her over-sensitized skin almost unbearable despite its softness and she whimpered and cried._

_There was movement, sound. A servant calling her mistress away. She clutched her mistress’s shoulders and buried her head in her chest. Soft breasts, muscles of steel beneath them. A study in contradictions. She made a pleading sound, prayed that it would communicate everything to her mistress. And maybe it did because her mistress held her tighter yet, tentacles settling securely within her body._

_“Hush, my kitten. I’m not going to leave you. I’ll always be right here.”_

_She looked up, hearing a soft whisper of wind. Her mistress dissolved into mist, dropping her into familiar white light._

_Except this time she wasn’t alone. She saw outspread wings, lilac and purple and lavender. He didn’t belong here. This was hers. Her place. He was a_ violation.

_“Who are you?” he asked._

_She lunged for the intruder. Her claws sank into his throat, her teeth were next. She was a cat, a big one with long fangs and sharp claws. He burst into mist and she roared her triumph into the silent, swirling mist._

* * *

Mirri opened her eyes, jolting upward as a loud crack seemed to split the night. Lightning flashed outside of Lilian’s bedroom windows, light flickering from beneath the curtains. Another storm had started up.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and the sheets were damp beneath her. She sniffed experimentally. Sweat, sweat and a trace of something else. Not arousal, exactly. She knew what arousal smelled like and that definitely wasn’t it. It was warm though, whatever it was, and it smelled… it smelled good in the comfortable way that a cup of hot tea or chocolate smelled good. She drew the blankets over her and spent a few minutes just curled up within them as she pressed her nose into the comfortable scent.

Thunder boomed and rain pelted violently against the windows. It was the kind of storm she would have hated before, the kind where no one ventured outside and those that did weren’t interested in entertaining a prostitute in the street. A hungry, cold night on the streets, she thought as she listened and drew the heated blankets closer around her body. But instead of being cold, wet, and hungry, she was now well-fed, warm, dry. Still a prostitute, but it was hard to feel that way when Lilian treated her with such affection.

Her intestines twisted and knotted. They seemed to shove up into her stomach and start knocking around. Lilian was coming back from Hell today and Mirri’s plan was shambles. It had never been that much more than a wild idea, but it had seemed like a good one at the time. Knock Lilian out, tie her up and force her to tell the truth with a spell. Those were the last few things she’d requested from the fairies the first time she summoned them. A knife that could send anyone it cut to sleep, and a rope that would force anyone to tell her the complete truth. (So she might have stolen the idea from a comic book, it was still a good idea.)

It would already have been difficult to knock Lilian out. Mirri didn’t have a perfect idea of Lilian’s fighting skills, but she figured that since Lilian was a general, she was probably a better fighter than Mirri was. She’d been counting on surprise to give her the perfect opening.

Now she had to deal with a trio of succubi as well as Lilian. And Mirri didn’t know anything at all about them.

Oh well, maybe there was some way for her to pull off her plan successfully. From what she’d read of succubi in hell, they weren’t exactly encouraged to be anything other than doormats. Maybe she could order them around. She’d probably have an easier time of knocking them out than Lilian.

She’d just have to be really fast. Really fast.

Mirri stayed curled up in the bed, but eventually she had to get moving. Nothing could happen if Lilian and the other three couldn’t get through the portal after all.  
She yawned as she stretched out her wings, hearing her joints pop as she did so. She took a few minutes to brush out the fluff of her tail and her hair before climbing out of the bed. The comforting scent dispersed as she started to move and she found herself regretting its absence, feeling colder without it around her. Flicking her tail from side to side, she approached the mirror in Lilian’s room, tilting her head as she inspected herself.

Then she started to shift, her wings furling away first, then her tail and legs. Mirri breathed slowly, lightly as she stared at her human reflection. Already her demon form strained beneath her skin, but she held it tightly in place as she crossed the bedroom and pulled on her harness. Silk bands closed around her skin and she tried not to bristle at the constriction it placed on her body, forcing her to remain in a form that began to feel less and less like her true form as time passed. She was getting better at shifting though. Maybe there would be a day when she didn’t have to wear it at all.

That would be nice.

On the other hand…

Mirri hesitated, then took off her harness. She shivered as her true form rushed across her skin and then stretched out her wings again. Was it her imagination or was there a subtle pattern developing on them? And her ears— had they always been so pointed and fluffy?

She flicked her tail and tilted her head. Then she turned to her wardrobe.

Regretfully, she’d taken most of her favorite clothes with her when she’d left. There were no pastel silks, no lovely rose blouses or pale gold embroidery. She was probably never going to get them back and made her heart twist.

But she still needed to get dressed. Eventually she decided on a slinky blue gown, colored with emerald and bronze like the shine of a peacock’s tail. It clung to her skin before flaring out in a skirt around her thighs. Feather-shaped cutouts were filled with floral gold lace and stitched with glinting rubies.

It was a bit… showy for her taste, but it was the only thing she had with a low back that could accommodate her wings. And she had to admit, she looked pretty good in it.  
Mirri fiddled with her hair a bit, tossing it one way, parting it another. Nothing she did to it seemed particularly satisfactory. It didn’t seem right. She growled at her reflection and wondered why it was something as useless as her hair that was throwing her off.

She just—

Why was she fussing about how her hair looked? For Lilian? Mirri was going to attack her and she’d never fussed over a client’s opinions before. Even the few times she’d had longer contracts with clients, she’d never been concerned with being anything other than mildly presentable. But no client had ever been like Lilian.

She wanted to look nice. Not nice. _Pretty. Pleasing_. Surely it couldn’t be something Lilian’s pheromones did. She’d been gone for days.

This terrifying urge came from her own heart.

Mirri raked the brush through her hair and yelped in pain. She fiddled with it a bit more before putting it in a braid and coiling it into a bun. She turned her head from one side, then the other. After a moment, she added a gold ribbon and tried her best to tie it in a fancy bow. She’d never really had to try to do anything fancy before and it took her several attempts to figure everything out.

At nine in the morning, Mirri began to fix the lines she’d carefully erased according to Lilian’s instructions, starting from the center and working her way out. There were several different types of chalk and she double and triple checked that she had the right one before putting it on the floor and drawing. It still didn’t take very long. Mirri paced anxiously around the circle and kept an eye on the clock. Lilian had left specific instructions and Mirri wasn’t about to fail her.

At precisely nine thirty, she cut open her thumb and let a few drops of blood fall on a specific spot on the circle. A dark swirling portal exploded into reality, a hole in the world of the universe. Mirri watched the darkness and shadows move hypnotically, pulling away to form a window into another world. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t ready to face Lilian. She still didn’t know what to do.

She shouldn’t have worried. The other side of the portal showed an empty pavilion surrounded by beautiful flowers.

Mirri sat down on the edge of the bed and watched the darkness swirl at the edges of the portal. She twitched her tail and eventually dragged a pillow over so she could clutch it close to her chest as she waited. Second stretched into minutes. The clock switched from nine to ten. And still no one showed on the other side of the portal.

Had something gone wrong? Had she failed? But the portal was right there. Maybe she could step through, see if it worked. The thought was tempting. Beyond tempting, actually. Surely a quick visit to hell wouldn’t hurt anyone. She would pop over and then be back before anyone noticed her. On the other hand... well, she'd read about Hell in the history book. Their view on succubi was very clear. Even the briefest visit was dangerous. And then, of course, there was the problem of her looking like someone who had assassinated the queen.

Mirri thought as she waited.

* * *

_Be the petal in the storm,_ Firease told herself silently. _Not the tree that defies the wind._

It was officially the first day of her new life as a purchased pet. It still felt slightly unreal. She’d never expected to be purchased. She’d been the failure of a cultivators, and then a failure of the trainers and finally a failure as even the worst of servants. Despite everything they had done, something in Firease found submission impossible. No matter how many times she tried to stuff herself into the tiny box of pet and servant, she never succeeded. Something always gave way, usually spectacularly.

After she’d been branded a feral, she’d given up entirely. So had everyone around her, the trainers throwing down her collars and leashes, trading them for muzzles and cuffs. Only Twilisi and Perri treated her as if she was worth anything, but they too were worthless failures who didn’t really fit in anywhere. Servants had to be beautiful, and they were ugly and malformed. Pets had to provide Grace, and their wings couldn’t provide that. It was a pity— Twilisi and Perri were so beautiful otherwise, both periwinkle in color but Twilisi was bluer and Perri was more purple. A matched set.

_Be the petal. Be the petal. Be the petal._

She hadn’t actually expected to be purchased. Not really. Part of her had accepted her fate and she’d wished that whoever she was born into next didn’t get whatever was broken within her. And part of her had screamed that everything was wrong, that she could be a good succubus, she could. She just needed another chance.

Just one.

And now she had that chance.

 _Petal in a storm. Carried by the whims of the wind._ The thoughts swirled in Firease’s head and her soul clawed at them. She wasn’t a petal. She wasn’t a reed, to be directed by the wind. Some part of her was stone and wood, standing tall and firm. Cutting it down would break her, and still the wind would not move her to its wishes. She just couldn’t.

But she had to.

The bed was the most comfortable thing she could remember laying on in a while. It was a large circular mattress, shaped a bit like a nest, surrounded by soft curtains of silk and velvet. Pillows and blankets were piled up on the bed, more than enough for her, Twilisi, and Perri. They didn’t even have to share, although they did, pushing everything together at the center of the bed. Even with the sisters curled up beside her, their wings and limbs tangled with hers, Firease felt cold and exposed.

Even as a feral, she had been kept with the other failures of the training pens. There had been ten in total, at least at first. Nights had been spent with their skin pressed against each other’s skin. Nightmares were soothed instantly by embraces and strokes of tails, the wrapping of wings around another. Firease couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent sleeping with so few succubi. Blankets and pillows didn’t make up for the soft warmth of another body, the comforting knowledge that she wasn’t alone or anywhere near alone.

She spent the entirety of her first night as a pet staring into the darkness, listening to the soft murmurs and purrs of Twilisi and Perri as they slept. Those two, at least, didn’t seem to have a problem. But they’d been so desperate for the past week, trying to attract attention and get interested customers to pay. It had consumed every waking moment and the tension had finally snapped into sweet relief.

They were purchased, they were safe. They were pets, and not just pets to some common soldier but pets to a high-ranked general— one betrothed to the queen, if the other succubus was to be believed. Someone who didn’t need Perri and Twilisi for their Grace because she had so many other succubi who could serve her in such a way. Someone who wanted them because—

Well—

Firease’s tail curled in the air as she stared at the curtains. She didn’t know why the general had done what she had. Of course, it was nigh blasphemy to believe she could understand the mind of an owner or mistress such as an incubus. But she wished she did. She wished she knew what the general wanted.

_Petal. Be a petal. I am a petal._

But she wasn’t. And what would the general do when she realized that fact? Firease was wild, even for a feral succubus.

The soft sound of fabric made Firease sit up. Two succubi pulled back the curtains around the bed, fixing them carefully in place. The succubi were dressed wonderfully in lovely silks that flowed across their bodies and were held in place by belts of delicate chains. One was softly silver, all shimmering whites and greys so delicate they must have been purposeful. The other was shining gold, luminous yellows and oranges. They looked magnificent, standing together.

Firease swallowed and bowed her head. She didn’t know exactly how to react to them, only that they were far, far, far above her, nearly as far above her as a master or mistress. After a moment she presented to them as if they were mistresses themselves— kneeling with her legs spread, her wrists behind her and her head bowed. It was an uncomfortable position, one that never came to easily her no matter how much she practiced it.

The silver one tilted her head at Firease. “You don’t have to do that. We’re not mistresses.”

“Get up,” the gold one said, far less friendly. The silver one shot her a look and the gold one softened her voice. Slightly. “We’ve orders to get you prepared.”

“Prepared?” Firease nudged Twilisi and Perri, flicking her tail across their noses. They had already begun to stir as soon as the curtains had been pulled back, but now they sat up and yawned. Their eyes went wide when they noticed the two palace succubi and then they immediately dropped their heads. Firease envied the submission that came to them so naturally. Why did it have to be such a struggle for her? “Prepared for what?”

“Mistress High General is leaving for another dimension,” the silver succubus said. Her wings twitched slightly and she flicked her tail and there was an unfamiliar expression on her face. “She has left orders for you to be sent with her. So you must be prepared.”

Was that… envy? What could this perfect succubus ever envy about Firease?

“Leaving Hell?” Twilisi leaned back slightly. “But— but she is a high general? Why would she leave Hell?”

“The whims and ways of the masters are not for us to understand,” the gold succubus snapped at Twilisi. “It is enough for us to serve. Know your place.”

Twilisi flinched. The silver succubus laid a hand on the gold succubus’s arm. Her tail swished through the air and soon after, Firease caught the subtle scent of a calming pheromone. It had the desired effect. The gold succubus huffed, but her shoulders relaxed. Twilisi and Perri looked slightly less nervous.

“We are protective over our general,” the silver succubus said. She hesitated. “She is… kind in a way that most mistresses and masters are not. You must give her your best, always.”

Perri’s tail lifted, “She is kind?”

The silver succubus nodded.

The gold’s tail lashed back and forth. “We all wished to be picked by the general. You are very lucky.” It was clear from her voice that she didn’t believe any of them were good enough to serve the general. The contempt made Firease bare her teeth silently but— well, that was the problem, wasn’t it? She wasn’t a good pet. She was wild, she picked fights. “You hurt her, feral, and you best hope the general keeps you out of Hell.”

“Is that a threat?” Firease jumped to her feet, her tail straight out.

“It’s a promise,” Goldie growled, her wings opening.

The silver stepped between them, tail swishing through the air. She glanced at the gold one, “We cannot know the minds of the mistresses and masters. What they wish is our world. We are petals and they are the storm. The general desires you three—” and Firease heard the longing in the silver’s voice. “No others. It is as it is.”

Firease had never been good at being a petal. She forced herself to take a deep breath and relax her tail. “What must we do?”

“The General has not given orders for your uniforms,” the silver said. She picked up several pieces of cloth. She must have set them down earlier, before she’d opened the curtains. “We have drawn some from the general palace uniforms. You must take care of them until the General outfits you properly.”

“And there is the fitting for your collars and cuffs,” Goldie held a length of knotted cord in one hand. She stepped towards Firease, who backed away instinctively. Goldie ignored her and wrapped the cord around Firease’s neck, pulling it tight and taking a measurement. Firease fought the urge to choke and wondered if the other succubus would make a ‘mistake’ with the measurements.

The silver succubus started with Twilisi, measuring her quickly before sorting through several pieces of cloth. Eventually she pulled out what looked like several wide lengths of lilac silk stitched together to make a rough y-shape. The wider panel went to the back, while the two arms were draped over Twilisi’s shoulders and arranged carefully in the front. A belt of delicate gold was the last piece.

The entire ensemble looked as it would fall off of Twilisi at any second. It was precarious, hiding nothing, exposing everything. She might as well have been nude, but the drape of the silk drew the eye to her in a way that would not have existed if she had been fully nude. Twilisi’s wings fluttered and she flushed.

The silver succubus nodded to herself as she stepped back and inspected Twilisi.

“Surely we cannot be allowed to wear this,” Twilisi said, running her hands across the fine silk.

“You are the pets of the General,” the silver reassured her and handed her some more of the silk, in shades of pink and delicate teals. Again there was the longing in her voice, a touch of envy. “If you were not dressed in silk, then we would be taken to the breeding post.”

Despite herself, Firease shivered.

“You shouldn’t need to worry about it,” the silver said, misunderstanding Firease’s shudder. “The General is in charge of your punishments. Were another incubus to strike you without her permission— well, it would not be pretty.”

“Your only concern is the General,” Goldie measured Firease’s wrists as roughly as she had measured Firease’s neck. “And you better remember that or you’ll wish you faced the breeding post.”

Firease rubbed her wrists when Goldie was done. Silver stepped up and eyed Firease. She passed her several gold and amber silks and showed Firease how to work the hidden clasps that kept the uniform from sliding off of Firease’s body until a mistress wished it to. It wasn’t at all complicated, although the clasps were tiny and Firease fretted that she’d break the delicate gold.

“Please do not hurt our general,” the silver said to Firease. Her eyes rested on the feral brand across Firease’s cheek. Firease bit her lip. She could take the gold’s open contempt, but the silver’s concern was another thing entirely. “She— she was deeply hurt by a pet once already.”

“How?’ Firease asked.

The silver shook her head. “It is forbidden. Just— just do not do anything to hurt her.”

Firease couldn’t imagine that she could do anything to a mistress. She couldn’t imagine a pet hurting a mistress at all. They were only succubi after all, and the incubi were so very powerful. “I won’t.”

“Thank you,” the silver murmured.

There was a soft sound. The five of them turned as an incubus filled doorway. It was not the mistress, it was a master instead. He wore a pressed jacket the color of emeralds, with sparkling stones stitched to the collar. His eyes swept over them. The silver and gold fell to their knees and Firease awkwardly copied them as she kneeled down.  
The master carried jeweled gold bands in his hands and called to Goldie. She rose and Firease bit her lip as the fitting for the collars began. The gold was called forward and she reported the measurements she’d taken while the incubus fiddled with the bands.

 _You are a petal in a storm, subject to the whim of greater things,_ she told herself as she was beckoned forward.

 _You are a petal._ She thought as the incubus unlocked the collar she’d been wearing. It was a bit like losing an old friend.

_I am a petal._

The ring of gold was cold as it closed around her throat. It fit snugly, but not tightly, the weight a constant reminder of its presence. She held out her wrists next, and watched as the cuffs clicked shut around them. Hidden locking mechanisms clicked.

_I must be a petal._

* * *

Sabine was combing out Lilian’s hair.

The teeth of the bone comb scraped against sensitive skin. Despite herself, Lilian flinched as she remembered the ruthless grip on her hair that Sabine had held throughout the night. She felt as if she’d been through a battle, her body was one solid ache. Bruises were layered upon bites layered upon bruises. Lilian had been forced to sleep stretched out on her stomach, the bloody welts on her back and the bites on her side preventing a more comfortable position.

But even lying on her stomach hurt. Her breasts held just as many bites and bruises as her shoulders and hips. The collar dug into her throat regardless of what position she tried to lay in. She felt swollen and sensitive, every part of her body waiting for some slight movement to set off a flare of new agony. Blood from raw skin had soaked into the wrapping of coarse rope around her body. Knots pressed against nerves and abused nubs of flesh beneath her tentacles.

She was in so much pain.

Sabine set down the comb. Lilian tensed again when Sabine’s fingers slipped through her hair. She let her head drop down onto the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and fighting back tears as Sabine began to braid it. The loving touch seemed obscene after Sabine’s actions last night and yet Lilian could not say, exactly, what Sabine had done wrong. Sabine had been perfectly within her rights to punish Lilian for her actions, for kissing another woman and allowing her to whisper sedition into Lilian’s ears. She had been in the right. She had been merciful, for the punishment for adultery was far worse than what she’d given to Lilian

She’d given Lilian another chance.

Lilian’s eyes burned hot as Sabine lowered her head and tenderly kissed a bruise. The brush of teeth against broken skin, the lap of a hot tongue, it seemed to hold a whisper of warning. She was frozen beneath her queen as Sabine’s skillful fingers undid the rope binding. Lilian let out a muffled cry when the rope pulled away scabs and left her bleeding anew. She wanted to heal it. She should heal it.

She couldn’t. Sabine had ordered her not to. Lilian would bear the mark of Sabine’s punishment and mercy until the wounds healed on their own.

Sabine sat up and stretched. She was perfect in the morning light, a statue of some goddess of raw lust. Then Sabine dropped back down beside Lilian, using a tentacle to roll Lilian onto her back even as she straddled Lilian’s hips. Her weight ground bloody welts into the mattress, into satin and silk and Lilian burned. Sleeping agony woke with a roar, with a throbbing white heat that blanked out her thoughts. Lilian whimpered, then whined. When Sabine’s tentacles dove greedily into her abused sheaths, Lilian cried but she knew better than to try to escape her punishment.

Sabine’s hands stroked Lilian’s chin. She bent over Lilian, pressed a kiss to Lilian’s bitten lips. The kiss of tasted of hot metal and blood. “You are beautiful, my general.”

Lilian’s breath came in short gasps and hiccups as Sabine’s tentacles moved within her. Every nerve screamed to try to push Sabine of, to crawl across the bed and hide somewhere dark and quiet where the queen could not find her. But there was nowhere Lilian could run, not in the bedroom, not in the Kingdom of Lust or Hell or the worlds beyond. She could try and Sabine might actually let her go— but then she would call Lilian’s Name and Lilian would be forced to come on her hands and knees to Sabine’s side and her bed.

Sabine’s eyes glazed over. Lilian’s tentacles wrapped tightly around Sabine’s own, at first in the instinctual reaction to push them away. Lilian swallowed her broken pride and shattered self. She licked the blood from her lips and forced her tentacles to stroke Sabine’s, to slip into Sabine’s body and please her the way Sabine always liked to be pleased.

Against her will, Sabine blew life into fading embers. She awakened lust and arousal within Lilian that Lilian didn’t even know she still had. In the ashes of Lilian’s body, Sabine started a new fire and Lilian cried as she burned again and again. Sabine wrung climax after climax after climax from Lilian’s overtaxed body before she climaxed messily onto raw flesh. That was an entirely different burn and this time Lilian couldn’t hold back the tears. She turned over, back onto her stomach with Sabine’s tentacles still deep within her and buried her head in a pillow.

Sabine’s hand stroked Lilian’s hot shoulders. Nails pressed into the edges of a lash and Lilian trembled in place.

“Who do you belong to?” Sabine asked.

“You,” Lilian whispered in a hoarse voice. Her throat was as raw as the rest of her. “I belong to you.”

“Swear it,” Sabine bent her head down and her teeth grazed against Lilian’s ears. She nibbled on them and Lilian began to shake even more as Sabine’s weight pressed against her bloody welts.

“I— I Liliaranlilith—” Lilian had always liked her true name. It was a strong name, speaking of predators in deep forests and the silent stalking of prey through the shadows of night. Now there was a new twist to it, an edge that ground into her. No longer the predator chasing prey, untouchable, but now she was wary of the predators in the dark. There was one who stood above her on the food chain and she had cut her way into Lilian’s soul. “I swear myself—”

How did the oath go? She hurt so much that she couldn’t remember the words.

Sabine was impatient. Her tentacles thrust hard and deep and Lilian twisted helplessly despite herself, crying out. Her hands dug into mattress and sheets, her claws shredding the silk.

“I—” Lilian spoke her true name again and the universe seemed to fall upon her as she invoked her Name. “I swear myself to you, Queen of Lust. I swear all that I am and all that I may be. To be your sword against your enemies, to be your shield in your defense—”

The tentacles slid out, dragging against raw skin. Lilian’s voice broke again. She lost track of the oath and had to start again, Sabine extracting a deep, low moan from Lilian. It was part pleasure, part pain.

“I swear— your heart before mine, your wish before mine, your life before mine. I swear to be yours and only yours,” Lilian said. “This I swear upon my name and let myself be forfeit should I break my word.”

Sabine pressed a tender kiss to Lilian’s jaw, “I accept your oath, my dear general. My beautiful love.”

Lilian dropped her head to the pillows, unable to summon the strength to hold it up anymore. Sabine rolled off of Lilian’s body and pulled her tentacles free. The black scales were streaked with dark blood and arousal. Lilian grabbed a pillow and hugged it tight to herself, a fragile shield that Sabine removed seconds later. She wrapped Lilian up in her embrace, her claws cutting new lines into Lilian’s back.

“Must you leave me?” she asked, stroking Lilian’s head. Lilian’s abused scalp ached at the slightest touch. Blood. The scent was part of their bed now, it seemed. It was the only thing she could smell. “Why can’t you stay here in hell? You have much work to do, if you are to get our warriors in fighting condition.”

“I have to finish up— finish up things on Thalassia,” Lilian said.

Mirri. She should tell Sabine about Mirri. The queen would be pleased at the knowledge after all. And then Lilian could bring her sweet kitten to hell and keep her close, wouldn’t ever have to let her go again. Mirri would adjust to the life of a pet easily, she’d done very well so far. They could have everything back the way it was before, the way that Sabine had tried to do with Errolr. Sabine, Lilian, and their kitten between them.

Her dear, sweet kitten. Sabine had been so jealous of her.

Sabine had—

She had—

She—

Lilian’s thoughts derailed. She couldn’t think straight. There were walls in her head and she couldn’t remember if they had always been there or not. They felt as if they’d always been a part of her. She should tell Sabine about Mirri. She should.

But something buried deep and selfish, something scared, told her that Mirri was Lilian’s secret. Something of her own, the one thing that Sabine hadn’t gotten her fingers in yet. Her beautiful kitten, her precious kitten, pure and unafraid. Innocent of Hell’s politics, everything her kitten could have been if her kitten had been born free rather than in Hell. She was— She was—

Lilian pressed her head to Sabine’s shoulder, shuddering in her love’s arms. Sabine nuzzled her in response.

“Send Azira in your place,” Sabine advised. “Tell her what to do, she’ll do it for you. And then you can stay here with me.”

Lilian was torn in two, caught between her kitten and Sabine. But this, at least, was an easy decision. “No, Maj— General Azira should stay here. I need someone I trust guarding you. And she is familiar with the palace.”

“Stay,” Sabine said. “And she won’t be needed.”

“I will be back,” Lilian whispered the words as if they were a prayer. To who or to what, for what reason, she didn’t know. But they sounded like a prayer to her. They felt like one. “I’ll be back, my love.”

Sabine sighed and kissed the top of Lilian’s head. “Very well. I suppose I can live without you for a few months more.” She tilted Lilian’s head up with one long finger. “Do not take too long, my beautiful general. Or I shall chase you down and bring you back to my side.”

She said it playfully, but Lilian shivered at the promise beneath Sabine’s words. “Of course not, my love.”

Lilian lay in bed with Sabine as the morning wore on, drifting in an out of painful, hazed sleep with dreams that haunted her. There were eyes in those dreams, bright eyes gone dark, bright eyes that bled and burned as claws dug into Lilian’s soul.

Eventually the two of them had to get up. Standing was the last thing that Lilian wanted to do. She managed it somehow, swaying in place as her tentacles threatened to give way beneath her. The throbbing agony between her legs sharpened into a blade that cut her if she stood still, if she moved, if she so much as existed. She licked her bleeding lips as Sabine took her wrist and drew her over to the mirror in the bathroom.

Blood was still smeared across it and the pale tile beneath. Hot steam caressed Lilian’s skin. Sabine pulled her gently into the pool and Lilian cried out at the touch of hot water against her raw skin. She pressed her head against Sabine’s chest and her queen stroked her hair as pain flared anew. Trembling, Lilian could only lay against the molded curves of the pool as Sabine picked up a sponge and soap. It stung like a thousand poisoned needles as Sabine oh so tenderly washed blood and grime from Lilian’s skin. Dried bodily fluids came off in clumps, taking scabs with them so Lilian bled again and again and again.

And then Sabine was done. Lilian picked up the sponge next and haltingly washed Sabine. She shook as she cleaned her mess from Sabine’s cherry-rose skin, restoring it to its natural glow. Blood swirled in the water and then was pulled to the drains as new water replaced the old. When they were done, no trace of soap remained, only drops of blood that came from Lilian’s skin.

Sabine helped Lilian from the water and dried her off. Lilian couldn’t help but to whimper when Sabine brought forth bandages and ointments. She bit back tears though, when Sabine applied the ointments. If the water had stung like poisoned needles, the ointments were like the bites of fire ants and tears blurred Lilian’s eyes again. Then Sabine bandaged the wounds, kissing the bandages as she finished tying them off.

Errolr crept warily into the room, followed by Sabine’s new succubi. The three of them wouldn’t look at Lilian at all, their gazes fixed unwaveringly on the ground. Errolr in particular looked distraught and heartbroken, his wings pulled tight to his body and his tail tucked shamefully against his legs. Lilian’s heart ached. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t blame him, that it wasn’t his fault Sabine had used him and the others. She had needed to punish Lilian, but it seemed unspeakably cruel to make the succubi do so.

“The general needs assistance dressing,” Sabine said. “Bring me her formal uniform.” The succubi needed no other command. They fled the room before Lilian could blink.

Lilian glanced up at Sabine. “My queen, I already had—”

Sabine’s eyes narrowed. Lilian’s protest died in her throat. She swallowed as Sabine walked around her, her fingers digging into bruises and bites hidden by the bandages. They lingered over the bites on the sides of Lilian’s throat, the collar that still bit into Lilian’s skin.

“You are a High General,” Sabine said. “Why should you walk about in normal clothes as if you are ashamed of your status? Besides, I like the way your uniform looks on you.” Her hands slid down the sides of Lilian’s body, and despite herself, Lilian tensed as Sabine hooked her fingers in linen bandages and pulled Lilian close. The queen smelled of the herbs from the bath, richly floral. “You should wear it more often.”

“As you wish, my love,” Lilian said.

Errolr and the other succubi returned with Lilian’s uniform. Sabine watched as they helped Lilian into the various layers of clothes, the skirt with its loops for her tentacles and then the black blouse that went underneath the formal jacket. Then there was the jacket itself, tight and tailored to accentuate Lilian’s body.

The collar of the jacket couldn’t be fastened, the band of steel and leather around Lilian’s throat proved to be too thick for it. Errolr fingered the collar, but eventually stepped away. His eyes never lifted from the ground, somehow, but she could feel the way his fingers shook. Lilian lifted her own hand to the collar as he backed away. The spikes digging into her skin had never felt so suffocating, the band of steel and leather so constrictive.

She wanted it off.

Sabine stepped forward then. A command rolled through the air. The collar clicked open and Sabine pulled it away from Lilian’s neck. Bending her head down, she pressed kisses against the ring of bruises. It took all of Lilian’s strength to stand still, to not flinch from Sabine’s touch.

Sabine closed the snaps of the high collar, hiding the bruises beneath black silk. She fastened Lilian’s engagement broach to the collar next and Lilian hated the way it looked like a tag, a visible claim. But Sabine wouldn’t act like this if Lilian hadn’t provoked her. It was entirely her own fault for being marked this way.

It was. It had to be.

Because the alternative— That Sabine was the one who was wrong—

Lilian’s thoughts turned to static, and then she shook her head slightly, wondering what she’d been thinking about. The more she poked at the holes and fog in her mind, the more she wondered if they were actually there of if she was just imagining things. The more she tried to look, the less she actually saw.

Her head hurt. She hurt.

“There,” Sabine stepped back. “You look perfect.”

“Thank you, my love,” Lilian said, letting her forehead rest against Sabine’s. Sabine hummed, a hum of pleasure that eased the tension in Lilian’s muscles. Warmth rushed through her heart at the sound, easing the pain in her body. As long as Sabine was happy, everything would be well.

As long as Sabine was happy, so was Lilian.

“I need to get going,” Lilian murmured. The light shafting through the windows told her it was well past noon. Mirri would have expected Lilian to come back early in the morning. Her kitten would be worrying and while the worry of a pet was nothing compared to Sabine, Lilian didn’t want to cause her undue stress. Succubi were so fragile, after all. It would be a good thing that she was bringing Mirri some companions.

Sabine sighed, and Lilian wilted at the unhappy note. Then she smiled, and cupped Lilian’s chin in one hand. “I suppose you must. Hurry back to me. Don’t dally on that waterlogged world too long. Maybe seduce that pretty succubus of yours. Just for me.”

“I won’t.” Lilian nuzzled Sabine before pulling away and starting for the door. Her thoughts whirled through the grey haze. She’d linger, just long enough to convince Mirri to bond her properly. It would please Sabine after all. And it would mean that Lilian never had to part from Mirri. Not ever again.

Lilian walked down the dark hallways of the palace as if caught in a dream. Incubi and succubi bowed low to her as she passed by. She couldn’t remember them doing that before. At least not in a way that commanded so much respect. Perhaps she should wear her uniform more often, particularly if it pleased Sabine. That was her purpose after all, to please Sabine.

Except…

Her head hurt. Lilian shook it as if that would clear away the dull ache at the back of her skull. She walked through the gardens towards the portal-gate. It was active now, the darkness edged with pink. There was no sign of Mirri on the other side, but that was honestly a relief. Too many people could recognize her kitten. It would be a relief when Lilian could return with Mirri on a leash and no longer had to bite her tongue.

A group of succubi and incubi stood beside the portal. Well, five succubi and one incubus, to be exact. Lilian recognized the silver and gold succubi she’d taken at the feast, their sweet faces turned downward respectfully. The incubus held their leashes loosely looped through his belt. They were more for show than actual use.

The three other succubi were the ones that Lilian had bought.

She’d forgotten about them.

How could she forget about them? What was wrong with her?

“We have prepared your succubi for you, general,” the incubus said. He wore the emerald uniform of a succubi handler, with a master’s star on the collar of his high jacket. His nasally voice grated against Lilian’s ears.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing over the succubi. She wondered what she’d been thinking when she’d bought them. They were pathetic-looking things, except for the feral and the feral wasn’t incredibly spectacular. Soft incubus. Silly incubus. Sabine was right on so many levels. She shouldn’t be so easy with them or handle them so gently. Those three were dead ends, it would have been better if they’d been recycled—

The dull pain flared. Lilian lost track of what she’d been thinking. She automatically accepted the leashes that the handler passed her. Perhaps she should lie down once she got to the other side. Have Mirri massage her back and temples. Maybe if she slept, she’d wake up and the world wouldn’t be so foggy.

“High General!” Azira ran down the path to the pavilion. She was half-dressed in a uniform, her eyes wild. Lilian turned to her, frowning. That wasn’t particularly dignified. As a general, Azira should be presentable regardless of time or urgency. Except—

Her head. Lilian winced, pressing a hand to her temple as Azira came up. No, if it was important, it was better that Azira got her the information right away. Besides, it was Azira. Formality wasn’t her thing. Lilian prefered it that way. What was wrong with her today?

“What is it?” she asked. The handler paused and Lilian waved him away. With a short bow, the man vanished. Lilian watched him go as Azira caught her breath. Her face was flushed and in one hand, she held a thin pamphlet. She handed it to Lilian wordlessly. Lilian peeked through it and frowned. It was a breeding registry, the kind used to sell high-priced eggs. The title indicated that it was for House Myriethe, the house that had produced her kitten.

Actually, it was old enough to be the pamphlet that had held her kitten’s egg.

“You’re going to have to explain this to me,” Lilian said. She glanced at the trio of succubi watching curiously and pointed at the portal as she released their leashes. “Go through and wait for me on the other side.”

The succubi exchanged looks, then bowed nervously and stepped through. Lilian breathed out. Hopefully Mirri could get them straightened out a little bit.  
Azira straightened up and smoothed out her blouse uniform. “Your kitten, she was cultivated by Myriethe.”

“I know,” Lilian said. “Did you find a connection between her and Errolr?”

Azira nodded her head. “House Nymareil paid an exorbitant fee to use Myriethe’s breeding fields. The same fields that produced your kitten. And House Nymareil owed a lot of money to House Nyxaelle—”

Lilian sighed. “And Nyxaelle is tied to House Nyaren, who rebelled.”

Azira nodded her head. Then she hesitated. “There is… there is one more thing. Isabelle’s husband was seen at Nymareil frequently. It might just be a coincidence but—”

“I doubt it’s a coincidence,” Lilian said grimly. She glanced around the garden to be sure they were alone before telling Azira bout the events of last night. A condensed version, one that left out how Lilian had been tricked and Sabine’s punishment. No one needed to know that. But she included Isabelle’s offer and the trigger she’d set in Lilian’s head.

Azira’s eyes went wide, and then narrowed with fury as she listened.

“I can’t believe the audacity—!” Azira gritted her teeth. “So what? We have to do something! We can’t let her get away with that!”

“We’re not,” Lilian said. She took Azira’s hands. “You’re the only one I know I can trust, ‘Zira. I want you to help Sabine root out the traitors, protect her from further assassinations attempts.”

“I will,” Azira promised. “Whatever it takes. Even if it means questioning Isabelle myself.”

“Thank you,” Lilian squeezed Azira’s hands tightly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Isabelle might—” Might what? Might just have been venting. It might have just been an accident? Lilian had tried to kill Sabine. She still remembered the echo of anger burning in her blood. She’d wanted to kill Sabine. And Isabelle had done that to her. “Well, maybe there’s still a chance for her.”

“Maybe,” Azira said. She took a deep breath. “What do you want me to do with Errolr? With this knowledge— he cannot possibly be allowed around Sabine now. Perhaps it would be best to recycle him.”

Lilian’s heart clenched. But Azira’s words made so much sense. It was smarter to recycle him, to ensure Sabine’s safety by removing a potential threat. “No— no, if he’s in service to another, reporting her actions— we can use him to figure out who it is and feed them the wrong information.”

And he would live. Sabine was right. Lilian was so very soft.

Azira at least didn’t notice the softness. Instead she nodded her head. “Yes… yes, of course, you’re right.”

“Sabine has purchased two new succubi,” Lilian said. “Encourage her to have them trained as watchers and sleep with them instead of Errolr. I’ll do the same.” Succubi were more sensitive to changes in a room than incubi. They had originally been bred for war, after all. The instincts were buried deep inside of them, but training would bring them out.

“Of course, High General,” Azira said. She hesitated, then looked at the swirling portal. “Perhaps you should stay. Help us cement Sabine’s place on the throne.”

Lilian watched the portal as well. The storm of desires blinded her nearly as much as the fog did. She needed— she needed to get away, clear her head. Think.

“I need to finish up something,” she said to Azira. “I’m only a call away.”

Azira hesitated, then nodded her head. “Of course. I will report what I’ve found daily to you.”

“Thank you,” Lilian said. “Thank you, Azira.”

Azira pressed her hand against her heart in a formal salute. Lilian saluted back and then watched as Azira hurried off. Azira was capable, she could keep things in hand until Lilian returned with her kitten in tow. It wouldn’t be long. Just three month. She was just a succubus after all, easy enough to fool.

Lilian just needed Mirri.

She took a deep breath as she turned to the portal and stepped through. Energy cackled across her skin, carrying the power of lightning and the sweet scent of flowers. Mirri’s magic, just a touch of it. Lilian closed her eyes as her tentacles curled, testing the magic. Grace swirled across her scales.

Then she was through, the cool dry air of the apartment greeting her. It was heavy with the bitter tang of metal.

_Blood!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... things happened. I know I said I'd reunite them in this chapter, but well... this chapter was already pushing my limit in terms of length so it became a two-parter. (Also, Mirri is being incredibly difficult right now.) I hope you think it was worth the wait!
> 
> Also, because of life constraints, I've decided to update every other week instead of every week. This should hopefully let me build up a bit of a buffer so stuff like last week doesn't happen again? We'll see. 
> 
> Stay safe everyone! Hope your week finishes strong!


	27. Nineteen - Claw and Fang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirri meets the new succubi and reunites with Lilian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for gore. I think it's only minor, but I tend to have bad judgement.

A flash of movement within the portal caught Mirri’s attention. It wasn’t much more than a darkening of shadows, a hint of red and gold and purple outlining a set of shapes in the swirl of magic. She hopped off of the bed and stood in front of the portal itself. Too late, she realized there was no good place to hide the fairy’s knife in her dress. There were no pockets in the partially sheer silk, and a bag would look strange. She closed her fingers around the knife instead, clasping her hands in front of her as her heart pounded.

She’d have to be fast. She couldn’t keep the knife hidden for very long. Lilian would notice something was up first, so the incubus was Mirri’s first priority. The succubi— well, they were pets in hell. Maybe they would be grateful to Mirri for attacking their owner and possibly letting them be free. That would be the best case. Hopefully they’d be neutral to everything. Worse-case scenario, they fought to protect Lilian and got in the way long enough for Lilian to handle Mirri.

Mirri wasn’t exactly sure why they would though. She would have been grateful to anyone that had helped rescue her from her previous clients. Especially the ones that thought she was nothing more than a toy for them to use as they pleased. Her own survival came first, and no one who bought and owned people cared much about the toys they purchased in her experience.

She took several deep breaths and prepared herself to strike as the first person stepped through the portal. And then she stopped.

Because the first person through the portal was a succubus. A little bit taller than Mirri, dressed in something that might be called clothes if you were particularly generous with the definition of clothing. She was colored in shades of red and orange. Her skin was the color of sunlight seen through dark amber, her hair vibrant red. Her eyes were entrancing— red and gold. Mirri blinked, flicking the tip of her tail and stared.

The other succubus stared back. Her eyes flicked to Mirri’s neck, then her clothes, then back up to her face.

Two other succubi walked in then. They were both blue-purple, one more blue and the other more purple. Their wings seemed small to Mirri, but she only had a sample size of five to go off of. Well, six if she counted Lief, but his wings had been smaller than hers or Allison’s. Maybe it was typical for female succubi. Maybe there wasn’t anything like an average size to demons.

“I’m Mirri,” Mirri said, to be polite although something within her didn’t want these strangers in her apartment. How weird was that? They weren’t competition, and yet— and yet something about them— no, something about the leader, put her on edge. Some invisible force scraped against Mirri’s nerves and told her that the red succubus was a threat.

Except Mirri couldn’t see what could possibly be threatening about her. Maybe it was envy then? Red was dressed like an expensive prostitute, all drapey silk and fine gold. She made Mirri feel cheap, gaudy in her blue dress.

They’ll be gone soon, she reassured herself. Lilian had said she’d talk to Allison about freeing the trio. And once they were free, they would leave and it would just be her and Lilian— until Lilian left. But Mirri was trying hard not to think about that and why it would bother her so much. She flicked the tip of her tail again, her hand tightening around the knife. No one spoke for a long time. Lilian didn’t come through, which Mirri thought was odd. Where was she? “What’s your name?”

The other succubi stiffened, their entire bodies going tense. Mirri bit her lip, and raked her mind. But she didn’t know where she’d stepped wrong. She had to call them something after all. Sure she could make up names for them, but she knew what it was like to be addressed in a way that didn’t fit. The silence stretched longer, the two periwinkle succubi glancing at the red one nervously.

“You have to have names,” Mirri pressed. “Everyone has a name.”

“What makes you think you deserve our Names?” the red one finally stepped forward. Her tail lifted and held still, almost frozen in the air. The twisting sensation in Mirri’s stomach grew. There was something in the air, it made her want to bare her teeth and drive this stranger back through the portal and keep watch until Lilian stepped through.

“It’s just a name,” Mirri growled, her tail swaying slowly from side to side. It eventually stilled, mimicking the pose of the succubus in front of her. “I’m not asking for your date of birth and the name of your first friend!”

“It’s our Name,” and there was an emphasis on the word that made Mirri think she was missing something important. The succubus’s wings shifted on her back, partially unfolding. “What are you even doing here? This place belongs to our mistress.”

“I could ask the same of you!” Mirri’s wings opened as well. It felt good to stretch them out, to show this succubus that Mirri had claws and fangs of her own. She wasn’t some helpless girl, bound and chained to a bed anymore. She’d fight for what belonged to her. What could this pretty succubus ever understand about suffering and pain? “Where is Lilian? She’s late! She was supposed to come through hours ago!”

“How dare you speak of our mistress in such a manner!” The other succubus’s wings flared out to their widest extent. They were large, their tips brushing the ceiling. Lilian’s bedroom normally felt comfortably large, but now it felt small and crowded. Instinctively, Mirri spread her own wings and something very old and primitive in her was pleased to find that her wings were bigger than Firease’s. “You are not worthy to speak her name, untamed!”

Untamed. Mirri’s lips curled. They were just like Chrissy, just like everyone else in her life. They didn’t want to know about her and they didn’t care to learn. She had to take it from her clients and from Chrissy but that didn’t mean she had to take it from them. Her tail lashed from side to side and whatever was in the air thickened, clouding Mirri’s head. She didn’t really care though. She had been here first. They should respect that!

She tried to take a deep breath but the cloud in her head was growing thicker. She was seeing a rose-red glow around the edges of her vision now. Whatever. She didn’t care. They would leave soon. She could tolerate them and act meek and polite until they left. For the sake of peace. It didn’t mean she had to like it, but she didn’t like a lot of the things she’d had to do.

“Sorry,” she said. “I forget. Missy— I mean, Mistress, well, we’re still sorting things out.”

The other succubi calmed down. The blue-periwinkle one slipped forward, her tail waving cautiously from side to side. She held out her hand. “It’s okay. But you must never call the mistress by her name. It’s improper and you would be punished for it.”

“Lil—” Mirri caught the glares of the others. She folded her wings down against her back. “Mistress wouldn’t punish me. She promised not to.”

They stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language. The red one recovered first. “The Mistress must punish you. Such behavior in a pet is not to be tolerated.”

“I’m not a pet,” Mirri said. “The Mistress is my client. We have an arrangement.”

“You are a succubus,” the blue-periwinkle said. She took Mirri’s hands. Mirri fought the urge to back off as the succubus leaned in and pressed a kiss to Mirri’s lips. Her scent surrounded Mirri, something light and floral. It made her nose itch. “You might be untamed, but you are still a pet. It is our place. You will see. The Mistress will teach you.”

Mirri pulled away from the succubus and jumped onto the bed lightly. Her tail whipped through the air. The mistress will teach you. Was that just what the succubus believed or had Lilian told them something? Was Lilian’s true goal to turn her into this creature in front of her, beautiful but empty? The red glow on her vision grew brighter and thicker even as fear pounded through her heart.

“Maybe you’d like to see your room?” she asked, struggling to control her emotions. She should jump down, get back on their level but she wasn’t willing to give up her position. Her wings spread again against her will, making her look larger and the edge of the thorn knife pressed against Mirri’s palm. She forced herself to close them, but it was nearly impossible. Everything in her body demanded that she show them their place and that place was beneath her. “Lilian agreed that you could—”

The red succubus jumped on the bed as well, her nails as long and as sharp as claws. The purple succubus shrank back, but the blue-periwinkle opened her wings and bristled. “Do not speak her name, untamed. If you continue to do so, I will teach you a lesson!”

“I can call Lilian what I wish,” Mirri hissed, her blood hot and pounding in her ears. The circle of red constricted, the succubus in front of her seemed to be surrounded by a blinding glow. “Unlike you, I am not a slave and I will never be so.”

“You will learn your place!” The red succubus snarled and slapped Mirri. Mirri felt the sting as the red succubus’ claws sliced into her cheek and stumbled back. She landed flat on her rear, the soft bed proving to be an unstable support. The knife bounce out of her grip. “We are pets! That’s all we are! That’s all we will be! Learn it, untamed!”

Mirri launched herself at the red succubus with a shriek. “My name is Mirri! Use it!”

Her wings beat in the air, sending up wild bursts of wind. There was a scent, sharp-edged spice, deadly flower. It screamed for blood and Mirri was happy to feed it as she dug her claws into the other succubus’s soft skin. Silk tore and fragile gold chains snapped. She felt another slash of claws against her cheek and then the bruising force of the other succubus’s wings. She’d underestimated the red succubus’s strength.

But the red succubus had underestimated her. Mirri had taken worse than a few bruises, a few scratches. Hands raked through her hair. She felt claws rip into her dress and tear. Her wings beat harder in the air, her tail whipping and filling the air with the scent of bloodlust and dominance. It was a savage scent, one that made her burn hotter as she dug her sharp teeth into the succubus’s wing joint.

The red succubus screamed and her eyes were feral as she grabbed Mirri’s ear and yanked. Pain exploded as her claws ripped through fragile skin. Mirri released the succubus and was kicked back across the bed, the breath driven from her lungs. She ignored it, she didn’t need air, she just thought she did, and rolled off the bed. The knife had fallen down amongst the pillows and she grabbed it before lunging at the red succubus again.

“Assassin!” someone shrieked and then the blue-periwinkle was in her face. She wasn’t a good fighter. Mirri slashed her with the knife and she dropped like a stone to the floor. The purple-periwinkle wailed, the sound beating against Mirri’s ears and then charged blindly forward. Mirri side-stepped and slashed out with the knife. The purple-periwinkle collapsed.

“How could you?!” the red succubus screamed. “I’m going to kill you!”

Then she was on Mirri again. Claws ripped into Mirri’s wings, the pain only serving to increase her fury. She pushed it out, pushed it away. The body was unimportant, she didn’t need it. She kicked and bit and scratched, wrestling the with the red succubus. They were two of a kind, both of them survivors and fighters and desperate to win.

Claws tore into Mirri’s stomach. She felt the rush of hot blood first, then the pain. Years of experience told her that it wouldn’t kill her, but she needed to end the fight fast and then retreat somewhere where she could heal. Mirri’s next slash with the knife was sloppy. The red succubus nearly knocked it out of her hand.

Fingers closed around Mirri’s wrist and twisted. She was forced to drop the knife and she lashed out blindly with her wing. The claw at the wrist joint sliced a deep line of black on the red-succubus’s face. She recoiled, hands pressed to her cheek. Mirri reached out, snatched up the knife. Just as the red succubus recovered, Mirri stabbed her in the wing, making her scream again before she went limp, the fairy’s spell taking over.

Well, that could have gone better, Mirri thought dizzily. She needed— she needed— She pressed her hand to her stomach. The wound had torn further. There was so much blood. She needed to— she had to heal it. Regenerate. She concentrated on the thought, was rewarded with a flush of golden sparks around the edges of the wound. They were consumed by the blood, stemming the flow.

Not enough… not fast enough… it was too deep…

She hurt…

She needed— sleep—

No.

She couldn’t. She had to— had to get Lilian. Question her. She focused harder, and the gold sparks made a blaze around the raw wound.

Tired—

Focus—

Heal.

Her magic answered her call in a way it never had before. Muscle and flesh knit back together, though blood obscured the healing wound. There was so much of it. How could there be so much of it in one body? How did she still have blood in her?

Mirri curled up into a ball on the bed, the knife clutched tightly in one hand. A soft sound made her lift her head. The portal was activating again. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.

She wasn’t ready.

* * *

Carnage greeted Lilian when she stepped through the portal.

For a moment, she couldn’t process the mess of color and light and dark. There were just shapes and blobs. The scent of blood was so thick that she could barely breathe. She could taste the pheromones of distress, fear, anger, hurt. Her succubi were scattered on the ground and bed like limp dolls, surrounded by shredded blankets, the feathery fluff inside of the pillows, their clothes. Black blood streaked across the floor, staining blankets and clothes. Less of it than Lilian had expected, not enough of it to generate the thick scent in the air.

Where, where, where? The room was a confusing display of colors. Her head hurt so much, her brain caught in a fog of pheromones. Distress. She needed to fix the distress, soothe the pain, comfort her dear pets. Her body hurt as she searched the room desperately. Red and gold lying on the bed, that would be the feral. Blue-and-periwinkle beside the bed. Perwinkle and purple collapsed by the portal. Her three new succubi.

Where was Mirri?

Where was she?

Lilian’s breath came fast and quick. She searched the air for the scent of invaders, but she couldn’t smell anything over the fear and distress and pain. They were hurt, they were all so hurt. She didn’t know where to go. She was pulled in three directions at once, frozen in place.

Soft incubus, she thought. Not fit for war.

She searched the room again. Mirri was here. She could smell her kitten. Red-and-gold, blue and periwinkle, periwinkle and purple—

A quiet whimper drew Lilian’s attention to the bed.

Black and pink and pale white streaked with gold like dawn clouds. The colors poked out from underneath a blanket and set of pillows. Mirri was hidden by shadows and the matching colors of the blankets. A subtle glamor glittered on her skin, disguising her the same way that Lilian had once disguised both of them on the train, forcing the eye to skip past.

“Kitten!” Lilian’s limbs screamed in agony as she rushed to her kitten’s side. She ignored it. Her kitten was the only thing that mattered now. “Kitten!”

Mirri lay curled up on the bed, wings and tail wrapped around her shivering body. Lilian could see her shaking despite the blanket she’d wrapped around herself. Her eyes were open but unseeing, a bright glow of magic around her. Blood had soaked into her hair, turning the ends of white locks black. There was so much blood, a pool of it seeped beneath the blankets. This had been the source of the scent Lilian had caught.

Her kitten. She whimpered and fought Lilian weakly when Lilian tried to pull away her wings and tail to see the wound. The protest was the protest of a wounded animal. Lilian fought the urge to strike her misbehaving kitten. It wouldn’t help. Mirri was operating on instinct now and her instincts ran counter to everything a succubus was trained to do. She didn’t mean to misbehave.

“Kitten, you have to let me help,” Lilian demanded. Mirri flinched away, her ears flattening against her scalp. Her tail flicked in the air, releasing a sour scent. Stay away, her pheromones said. _Leave me alone,_ they said. A succubus could be taken to the breeding post for releasing such a displeasing thing. But there were layers of bitterness there.

_I’m hurt. I’m in pain. I’m dying._

_Help me._

“Kitten,” Lilian forced her voice to soften, even though she wanted to pin her kitten’s limbs down and force her to submit. In her current state, Mirri would fight back and that might actually kill her. She reached out with one hand, her eyes focused on Mirri. “Kitten, I’m going to heal you, okay? But I have to see the wound. I have to know what I need to do.”

Mirri’s hands locked tight around Lilian’s wrist. Sharp claws cut punctures into Lilian’s skin. Blood welled up. The pain was nothing and yet the sting was almost overwhelming. Mirri’s grip was so tight, her claws scraped against Lilian’s bones. Fingers stained with black blood left dark streaks on Lilian’s skin. There was so much blood.

Lilian held still against the burn of pain, breathing calmly through it. Her kitten didn’t seem to know whether or not to push Lilian away or drag her closer. Her tail flicked in the air, the sour notes fading, the bitter ones growing stronger. It was a confused muddle that spoke to Mirri’s current mental state.

_Help me. Leave me alone. I need you. Go away._

“Kitten,” Lilian said softly, “Please trust me.”

A moment of hesitation. The scents shifted. Mirri’s tail lowered, lying flat against the bed and her wings slowly, oh so slowly opened. The grip of Lilian’s wrist remained the same. Mirri only let go when Lilian pried her hands away as gently as possible. The front of her blue dress was stained black with her blood. The glow of her magic burned fiercest here, so hot that it was a wonder that the blankets hadn’t caught fire. She was using up too much magic, too quickly.

Lilian gently pushed Mirri onto her back and sliced away the remnants of the dress with her claws. The wound was three deep scores across Mirri’s abdomen. Through them, Lilian could see the grey flesh of intestine and a stomach that Mirri technically didn’t need anymore. The organs themselves didn’t seem to be damaged thankfully. Just the muscle, which was problem enough because it was a mess of half-healed and badly misaligned fibers and flesh. In her desperation, Mirri had healed herself wrong.

Lilian smoothed her kitten’s hair out of her face. A touch of magic stopped the bleeding and Mirri’s magic faded, becoming dull and red like the embers of a dying fire. “Kitten, I need to make a few cuts, okay? Some of your muscles are in the wrong place.”

Mirri stared blankly at Lilian.

“Kitten,” Lilian pushed gently. “You can’t fight me when I start to cut. Do you understand? If you move, I might damage some of your organs.”

A long slow blink. Then a slight nod. Then a stronger nod, frightened but Lilian could hardly blame her kitten for that. A tentacle slithered across the bed, curled around her kitten’s wrist. Mirri clutched at it, her claws digging into fragile scales and crushing them. The tentacle squeezed tighter, matching her grip. The pressure seemed to reassure her kitten, she relaxed, her wings folding against her sides rather than staying half-raised and tense.

Lilian took a deep breath. She glanced down at the curved hooks of her claws and changed their shape, from a curved hook into a sharp scalpel precise enough for the work she needed to do. Mirri flinched when the first cut was made, but held still. Lilian worked quickly, her magic stemming blood before it could rise up. She re-opened the wound, then carefully realigned the muscles and layers of flesh. The edges of the tear were ragged.

“What happened kitten?” Lilian asked. “This wasn’t made by a blade. You look like you were attacked by a wild animal. Who did this to you?” She would kill them for hurting her kitten so— for almost taking Mirri away from her, just after she found her again. Her sweet kitten, who deserved nothing but silks and soft touches, to be sated and content for her entire life on a bed within Lilian’s tentacles.

Mirri shivered and shook her head slightly.

“Kitten, I need to know,” Lilian pushed, “If they are a threat to you, I must take care of it. I promised you protection, didn’t I?” Besides, whoever had hurt her kitten had also attacked Lilian’s new succubi and broken into her apartment. That needed to be taken care of as well. She would have to let Sabine know about the attack as well. Doubtlessly it had been meant to target Lilian herself.

“We— we fought,” Mirri whimpered.

“Who did?” Lilian asked. Her magic began to stitch her kitten back together. Lilian couldn’t heal herself, but she could and would heal her kitten. 

“The— the red succubus,” Mirri’s voice quavered. “She— she attacked me.”

Feral. Lilian glanced at the succubus, who lay collapsed beside Mirri. She was unconscious, but her claws were black with blood. Her kitten must be a better fighter than Lilian had assumed. But then again, Mirri was not a pet, not yet at least. She’d lived on her streets for most of her life. It made sense that she would have learned how to defend herself.

Lilian had been soft— and foolish. And now look where it had gotten her. Mirri had nearly died from her carelessness, because Lilian had wanted to be kind and compassionate, wanted to spare pets that should have been recycled. She began to shake slightly, every muscle tense. Sabine was right. She was too soft with the succubi. Mirri deserved it, of course, but did the others?

Archdemons, how could she have been so foolish, to leave Mirri alone with a feral. She would have to take care of the feral. But not right now. Not in front of Mirri.

“What of the other two?” Lilian asked.

“They— they tried to stop us,” Mirri said. “I— I knocked one out and then the other turned on me.”

The other two were closer to being proper pets, Lilian supposed. She’d spare them, but she’d have to keep an eye on them. Make sure that neither dared to attack her kitten again.

“Why did the red succubus attack you?” Lilian asked.

Mirri hesitated. “I— she didn’t like that I called you by your name.”

Lilian sighed. Her kitten shouldn’t be using her name, of course. Pets weren’t allowed to use the names of the masters and mistresses they served. But her kitten was still in training, didn’t know how things worked. And Lilian had neglected her for a week, done nothing but spoil her rotten. The fight was her fault, it seemed.

On the other hand, the red succubus should not have attacked.

“I will handle the red succubus,” Lilian reassured her kitten. It would be easy enough to do so. “Don’t worry, Kitten. She won’t bother you anymore.”

Mirri’s wounds were mostly healed now. Her kitten still looked frightfully pale, drained and on the edge exhaustion. Lilian’s words sent a wave of alertness through her though. She looked up at Lilian.

“Handle her?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. “What do you mean?”

“She can’t attack you like this, kitten,” Lilian said. Surely even Mirri should know that. But her kitten still looked confused so Lilian explained further. “It’s my fault, kitten. The red succubus is a feral. I knew that, but I didn’t think she would be violent. If I had, I wouldn’t have sent her through on her own. But either way, the fact that she attacked you is telling. She’s obviously unstable and needs to be put down—”

Mirri pushed Lilian away, sitting up. Her bronze eyes were bright against the paleness of her face. The scent of fear strengthened. Lilian tried to push her kitten back down, but Mirri proved to be stronger than expected. She scooted back against the pillows. “Put down?”

“She nearly tried to kill you,” Lilian pointed out.

Mirri hesitated. “But— but killing her? Does it really matter? She’ll be gone soon.”

“Mirri,” Lilian said patiently. “Allison won’t take an unstable succubus into the free communities. If she stays with us, I run the risk of her attacking you again. She nearly killed you this time. No. She needs to be put down. It’s for the best.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Mirri snapped. Lilian nearly slapped her for talking back. “Don’t talk about her like she’s— like she’s some sort of animal.”

“Kitten, she’s a pet.” Why couldn’t Mirri understand that simple fact? Pets that attacked people got put down. It was the same for any species, dog, cat or succubus. Pets that couldn’t be trained, that could only be violent— well, they didn’t have a place in the world and they were a danger to others around them.

“She’s a person,” Mirri said. “Like me. I’m a person. You can’t— you can’t just kill her. There was something else going on. I don’t know why we fought, but—” She hesitated and her wings lowered. The scent of her distress rose and Lilian loathed the red succubus for putting it there. Mirri repeated herself, her voice faint. “We can’t just kill her. There was something else going on. I know it.”

“Kitten,” Lilian reached for Mirri and drew her kitten into her arms. Mirri was cold to the touch, her magic faded and weak. She’d spent so much of it healing herself and she’d nearly healed herself wrong. She shivered in Lilian’s arms and tentacles, still gripping one tentacle tightly. Lilian smoothed Mirri’s hair, hating the dark blood that stained it. “It’s not your place to worry about such things. She would have been put down anyway. I should have paid more attention.”

Mirri pushed at Lilian’s chest. “Stop it!”

“Kitten, don’t, you’ll hurt yourself,” Lilian said. She gripped Mirri’s wrists tightly in her hands.

“She’s a person! If I hurt someone, you would investigate why! She deserves the same investigation!” Mirri’s eyes flashed bright bronze.

“You are not a feral,” Lilian said. “There’s obviously something wrong with her, Mirri. It’s kinder to let her die.”

“No!”

“Kitten,” Lilian’s patience was thin already. She hurt so much, she didn’t want to fight her kitten on this. She didn’t have the energy to do so. Her grip tightened on Mirri, but Mirri fought even harder to escape, her claws digging into sensitive skin. She hit a bruised bone by accident and Lilian released her, pain shooting through her body.

“Stop acting like she’s a thing!” Mirri scooted away from Lilian, putting pillows and blankets between them. She’d also put herself between the red succubus and Lilian. “Stop talking like we’re beneath you! We’re not!”

“You are a succubus!” Lilian finally snapped. “Do not tell me what to do, Kitten! She should have been recycled a long time ago. This was inevitable!”

Something bleak and horrified swept across Mirri’s face. She trembled, backing up when Lilian moved closer. Her wound opened again, the healed tears ripping. Lilian’s nostrils flared when she saw the damage. At this rate, her perfect kitten would scar and that would be a waste.

“You’re not Lilian,” Mirri whispered hollowly. She skittered back when Lilian reached for her, breath coming in short gasps. Lilian would have to punish her for such behaviour. She would loathe such a thing, but apparently it was necessary. Her kitten had been spoiled too much. “You’re not my Lilian.”

“You are very wrong, kitten,” Lilian said. “I am your Lilian. I am your mistress and you will see that.”

“My Lilian would listen to me!” Mirri’s voice was high and shrill, unpleasant to the ear. “My Lilian wouldn’t talk about a succubus like she was a thing!”

“Kitten—” Lilian moved across the bed slowly.

“No! Stay away from me!” Mirri cried out. “I don’t care who you are but you’re not Lilian!”

Lilian lunged. Pain ripped open from her wounds and her body jerked. Mirri slashed out blindly with a yelp and jumped down off the bed. Her wings were raised high and spread wide, her tail was held errect and frozen in place. It was an unbecoming posture. The wound had begun to bleed again.

“Kitten, you’ve reopened your injury,” Lilian scolded. “Come back here. Let me heal you.” She’d knock out Mirri at the same time, then take care of the red succubus. Once the succubus was dead, there was nothing her kitten could do but accept the inevitable.

“Stay away!” Mirri’s voice took on another quality. Not as shrill, more determined. Lilian found herself looking not at a distressed pet but someone who was too used to fighting, too used to getting what she need by clawing her way to it. Very well. Her kitten wanted a lesson, she’d get it. But before Lilian could punish Mirri, she'd need to heal her. Else her kitten might die from the punishment.

“Last time, kitten,” Lilian said coldly. “Put down the knife, come back here, and let me heal you.”

Mirri bit her lip. For a moment, Lilian thought that Mirri would make a run for it— and her kitten would regret such a foolish attempt— but then Mirri walked back across the bed and sat down, her hands clasped in front of her. Her brows were furrowed and her tail flicked nervously from side to side.

“Good girl,” Lilian said. She patted Mirri’s head, drew her back into an embrace. Magic flickered at the tips of Lilian’s fingers as she pushed Mirri back down onto the pillows. “Just hold still.”

* * *

Lilian smelled wrong.

Mirri hadn’t noticed before, but now it was obvious. She smelled rotten, almost, as if something had spoiled within her. There was a look in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Hell had done something. Mirri didn’t know what and she didn’t care. The person that stood in front of her wasn’t Lilian. It was some remnant of Lilian and Mirri wanted nothing to do with it.

But it was her fault the red succubus couldn’t defend herself against Lilian and it was her fault that Lilian wanted to kill her. And even if she wouldn’t be responsible for the red succubus’s death, if she ran, Lilian would hunt her down. Mirri knew she wouldn’t win that fight. She had to win now, take care of the threat.

And then—

And then she’d figure out what to do. After.

Her hand tightened around the wooden knife the fairies had given her. As Lilian pressed her fingers to Mirri’s wound, healing it again, Mirri plotted her course of attack. Lilian’s clothes were made of thick satin-silk, an impressive uniform that made Lilian loom in the room. Nestled at her throat was a blood red ruby and Mirri felt sick at the sight of it. She reached out, closed her hand around the ruby and yelped when a sting jolted her fingers.

“Oh Kitten,” not-Lilian’s voice turned soft and affectionate. Mirri didn’t respond to it. Lilian had finally changed, become everything Mirri had nightmares about. She forced herself to relax as Lilian tapped her nose. Mirri wrinkled it and Lilian chuckled, as if she wasn’t planning on killing the succubus that slept right beside Mirri. “Only I or the queen can remove the broach. Not little succubi.”

Mirri squirmed at the patronizing tone. She’d heard the exact same thing so many times. It was an alien sound from Lilian. Then again, this Lilian wasn’t her Lilian. It was some stranger wearing Lilian’s face. “Where’s my book?” she asked, to change the subject.

Lilian blinked. “What book?”

“My book. The poetry one you promised to bring me,” Mirri said. She wasn’t entirely convinced that the knife was sharp enough to cut through Lilian’s clothes. Skin yes, but not clothes. She didn’t trust her ability to cut Lilian in the face without hitting something important. Which meant she’d have to get Lilian out of her clothes.

“Hmm,” Lilian healed Mirri’s wound. “Do you think you deserve a gift, kitten? You’ve been naughty.”

“But you promised,” Mirri whined, and batted her eyes. “You promised to give me it.”

“Ask me properly and I’ll consider it,” Lilian said.

“Please Lilian?” Mirri asked.

Lilian played with Mirri’s tail, her tentacles flowing around Mirri’s body. The weight of them pinned her arms and legs in place. Mirri eyed the scales, but she didn’t think she’d be able to cut the scales either. She shifted. In her dreams, the tentacles had been comforting. Now they felt too close, claustrophobic and trapping. She wanted to move. “Try again, kitten.”

Mirri tilted her head. “Please Mistress?”

“Better,” Lilian smiled. She bent down and pressed her lips to Mirri’s nose. “Keep behaving and I’ll give you the book, deal?”

Survival. Survival first and foremost, Mirri thought although her heart broke. For once in her life, she thought she wouldn’t have to just survive. For once in her life, she hadn’t needed to. But everyone showed their true natures eventually.

“Yes, Mistress,” Mirri said, and the word was ash on her tongue. The rotten scent wafted across her nose and she turned her head away from it. Lilian kissed her cheek instead of her lips and she pulled back frowning. The colors of her eyes shifted. Had it always looked so red? In Mirri’s memories, they were warm gold and bronze, not this coppery shade. What was wrong with her? “Mistress?”

“Yes, kitten?” Lilian asked.

Mirri did her best to look as pathetic as possible. “I— I haven’t eaten in a few days. I’m— could you—?”

“Are you hungry, kitten?” Lilian asked. Her tentacles tightened around Mirri’s body and Mirri fought the urge to start screaming and fighting against them. Hold still. She had to hold still.

Mirri nodded her head. Swallowed. “You promised me you would show me your tentacles too, you know, Mistress.”

“I remember, kitten,” a brief flash of something passed across Lilian’s face. She winced, her eyes flickered. Then she frowned. “You’re badly wounded, kitten. I don’t want to hurt you. It would be much better if you rested.”

“I’ll heal better on a full stomach,” Mirri said. “Trust me, mistress. I— I always heal better if I have a good meal.” That much, Mirri thought, was true. She nuzzled the tentacle closest to her face, licking the scales. A too-sweet scent emerged from them, clouding her mind. “I trust you. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You did use a lot of magic,” Lilian said thoughtfully. She paused, then sighed as she pressed a kiss to Mirri’s lips. Mirri tasted the rotten-fruit taste and did her best to not pull away from the kiss but to reciprocate. She let herself pull away from her body, distancing herself from sensation. It was just a thing, just a tool. “As you wish, kitten. Who am I to deny you?”

My mistress, Mirri thought bitterly, then squashed it. This wasn’t her Lilian. She didn’t care, but this wasn’t her Lilian. Mirri purred against the imposter Lilian as Lilian’s tentacles stroked her skin. She reached up to Lilian’s uniform jacket, her fingers resting against the floral buttons. She undid them, doing her best not to breathe in the sickly scent.

Lilian grabbed Mirri’s hands and stopped her. Her face was strange, her expression twisted. A flash of scent, something pure cutting through the rotten fruit. A flash of Lilian.

Was Lilian buried deep within the stranger? What had hell done to her? Could Mirri undo it somehow? Could she bring back her Lilian?

Did she dare try?

“No, kitten,” she said. Her claws sliced away the rest of Mirri’s ruined dress and underclothes, leaving her bare. Mirri shifted her hips, wincing at the flash of pain through her abdomen. Her wounds were sealed but they weren’t completely healed yet, it seemed. She whimpered as Lilian’s skillful fingers began to trace circles between Mirri’s legs. Mirri nuzzled Lilian again, seeking the purity of Lilian’s scent and finding rotten fruit again. She licked a bit of exposed skin on Lilian’s neck and cried out when Lilian’s fingers dug cruelly into sensitive flesh.

“Don’t,” Lilian said. Her voice shook. There it was again, a flash of something pure. “Do— Do not do that again, kitten.”

“Mistress?” Mirri asked.

“It is not your place to act,” Lilian said. “Just lie back, dear kitten. I shall do the work. You should not tax yourself.”

Mirri fluttered her wings and tail in a way she hoped was inviting. It seemed to work, for Lilian smiled ever so slightly. “Mistress you should take off your jacket. I will make it messy.”

“Don’t worry about the jacket, kitten,” Lilian said. She fiddled with the enormous ruby at her throat almost self-consciously.

Mirri bit her lip. “But I want to feel your skin against mine, mistress. Please? It would make me feel better.”

“No, kitten,” Lilian said.

“But—!”

“I said no!”

Mirri cried out again when Lilian’s tentacles tightened around her body and she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move— she was trapped in steel bands and they were crushing her beneath the force of them. She thrashed instinctively and felt something tear. She screamed and her hand lashed out, the knife cutting a slice out of Lilian’s coat.

Beneath it was a layer of linen bandage. The knife hadn’t broken skin.

Lilian grabbed Mirri’s wrist and the knife. The grip was bruising. “What is this, kitten?”

Her voice was as cold as ice.

“Let me go! You’re hurting me!” Mirri saw dark spots and flashing red. She heard her ribs crack beneath the pressure. “Lilian! Please. It hurts!”

“Who gave you this?” Lilian demanded, squeezing harder. “What is it for? Did you mean to kill me?”

“No!” Mirri cried out.

“No?!” Lilian roared and Mirri screamed as something crunched horribly. She lashed out blindly, her claws digging into Lilian's cheek.“Tell me! You will tell me!”

She couldn’t— she couldn’t— Her vision hazed white— 

_Soft mist floated across Mirri’s mind and then it turned dark. She was being crushed. She could feel the pressure, her hands and feet scrabbling uselessly in her bindings. Where was she? What was going on? What happened? She couldn’t think, her mind was so full of panic. She needed space._

_Ropes creaked. Bones cracked under the weight of whatever was pressing down on her chest. She saw dark spots. She saw Lilian, silhouetted by blinding white light. The general’s hair was matted with sweat and blood. Her face was drawn, grey with bloodlessness. There were dark shadows under her eyes._

_“Who gave you it?” Lilian asked. “Who gave you the poison?”_

_Mirri whimpered. “I bought it.”_

_“With what?” Lilian asked._

_Mirri didn’t know. She’d never had any sort of money. She’d never touched money, to be honest. She wasn’t even sure how much the poison cost. It had just been given to her._

_“Where did you buy it? How much did it cost?” Lilian asked._

_Mirri couldn’t answer those questions either so she stayed silent. The ropes creaked again and her ribs broke beneath the weight. She had no breath to scream but she tried anyway, gasping soundlessly as her vision blurred with hot tears. Crying was a form of torment in an of itself._

_“Who gave you the poison?” Lilian sounded so defeated._

_“Please,” she gasped out. Her tail twisted uselessly in the restraints. It was bloody where her pheromone glands had been removed, preventing her from self-soothing or distracting her incubi torturers— from distracting Lilian. Her general. Her mistress. She mustn’t tell her anything. She mustn’t. “Please— please, mistress.”_

_“You know how to end this,” Lilian sat beside her. She reached out as if to touch Mirri’s hair, then pulled her hand back. The denial of comfort was more painful than the offer itself. “Tell me, and it ends. Just tell me.”_

_Lilian mustn’t know. Mirri just shook her head. She mustn’t. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I didn’t! I swear!”_

_“I believe you, kitten,” Lilian said. “But whoever gave you the poison did. You don’t want them to get away, do you?” She nodded somewhere and ropes creaked. The stone was lifted. Mirri could breathe again but that option was pure torture. She turned her head towards the tentacle that crept up to her face, trying to rest her skin against the scales._

_“I can’t,” Mirri whimpered. “I can’t—”_

_Lilian mustn’t ever know._

_The general’s face fell, hope in her eyes dying. She made a gesture and Mirri screamed as the stone fell._

_Mist again. She stood in a world of soft white and faced her reflection in a mirror. Her reflection looked like the succubi who had walked through the portal, dressed in silk and_ _softly glowing. In contrast, Mirri was grubby and bloody. She tilted her head at her reflection and her reflection held perfectly still._

_Her reflection pressed the tip of a clawed finger against the mirror’s surface. She scratched something that Mirri almost thought she could read if she looked at it hard enough in glowing light in the mirror. Something whispered in her ears, a song in her heart. It was something she knew in the deepest parts of her. It was part of her, somehow. Then her reflection turned her back and walked away, the lines of light fading._

_“Don’t go! Tell me what’s going on!” Mirri ran to the mirror and pounded her fists on it. It shattered into a thousand shards and she screamed as voices assaulted her ears._ She mustn’t know. Can’t do it. Won’t do it. She doesn’t deserve it. It would hurt her. I don’t want to. I don’t want to—

I love her.

_She saw a flash of a stranger again, violet wings and violet eyes. A man in her world of mist, staring at her like she was a ghost. He was collared, dressed in silk panels. She felt like she should know him, that he was part of her somehow. He carried something foreign with him, something that didn’t belong here._

_“Who are you?” he asked. He stepped forward, the movement shattering the glass beneath her. Cracks of light turned into burning glyphs and symbols. Mirri saw her reflection a thousand times, a thousand places. Silk and fire, jewels and blades. Pain and pleasure, poison and passion. She drowned in the sensation, in the slashes of color and light and shadow._

_Another step. “Who are you?! What are you doing in my memories?"_

His _memories? This was her place. He was the foreign one here. He was the one who didn't belong._

_"Leave me alone!” she screamed at him. "This place is mine!"_

_Another step forward. "These are my memories."_

_She snarled at him and felt herself change again into that great cat. She pounced and slashed him in half, "This is mine!"_

_Hr world splintered again into a thousand shards when her claws met his flesh, each of them bearing the reflection’s glyphs burning on the surface. The glass slashed through the male succubus and he burst into mist beneath her. She_ felt _him leave and she could feel the thread that linked him to the world of mist and memories that belonged to her. It was like glass silk beneath her fingers when she grabbed at it. She couldn't break it, though she tried._

 _She nearly cried. She wanted him_ out. _She wanted what was hers. She wanted to be free of him._

_A voice drifted through the mist, an echo of a voice-- her own voice Words, foreign but known. Her reflection reached out, eyes narrowed in concentration, and Mirri mirrored her. Their fingers brushed together, there wasn't glass between them any longer. Light and heat exploded outwards, pink and gold and white sparks dancing on streamers of flame. Mirri cried out but there was no pain as her reflection rippled and vanished, wrapping around her, vanishing into her. A part of her she hadn't even realized she had been missing. But now she felt the ache as keenly as she felt the relief from being made whole._

_And yet there was still a barrier, something keeping her from fully reuniting from this piece of her. She felt more than saw a cocoon of glass silk, a deceptively delicate mesh._

It won't last for long. _She knew that somehow now. The cocoon was growing thicker. Soon she would be parted from her reflection. Desperation rose. She had to act. Now!_

_The words rose again and Mirri knew what to do. She raised her voice, screamed the words aloud. They burned their way through her throat as she shaped the harsh syllables, leaving behind ash and fire. They consumed her, but she had to finish her work. Had to burn away the cocoon. Burn away everything._

_Just for a moment._

_Just long enough._

_Just to see her again._

Mirri opened her eyes.

The storm raged inside the room, rain and wind howling through windows that had been forced open. Her throat burned, she tasted ash, smelled smoke despite the rain. She lay in the remnants of a bed, her clothes burned away. Between flashes of white light, she caught sight of lumps lying on the ground. Wings and tails. The other succubi.

She lay in a sprawl of limp tentacles, the scales shiny with water. Beneath her fingers, she could feel Lilian’s pulse, steady and strong. The wind changed, blowing the driving rain past the room. She was so cold and wet and she hurt so much, but her body was used to such things despite the luxury she’d found herself in. She pushed herself to a sitting position, almost crying from the throb of awakened pain.

 _Have to close the window,_ she thought. She wasn’t sure any of them would die from the cold, but water damage to the room was another matter. But she couldn’t convince herself to move as the first waves abated, leaving behind a dull throb of agony. When she finally did work up the courage to climb off the bed, Lilian’s tentacles tightened around her body.

Mirri tensed, but the grip was firm, rather than painful, except where the tentacles pressed against the bands of bruises. She took a shallow breath and shivered. She couldn’t remember feeling this cold before in a long time. When she looked down at her hands, the bruises remained, without the warmth of magic to heal them.

She felt so hollow, as if she was built of ash.

Lilian’s tentacles tightened further, pulling against Mirri. She let out a cry when one pressed against her ribs and the tentacles froze, then retreated. They returned again, sliding gently across her body. Mirri tensed, but the tentacles seemed less interested in hurting her than exploring the bruises. She saw a pulse of dull gold slide across the scales and warmth sank into her body anew, melting the ice that had seemed to grow within her.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The pain dulled and the bruises lightened, turning the mottled yellow and black of old marks. The scales rippled and went dark. Lilian murmured something and her hands reached out to the spot where Mirri had been. Lightning cracked across the sky and Mirri jumped when thunder cracked as if the sky itself was being split open. Memories blurred, it was if a barrier had broken in her mind.

She remembered similar thunder and fields blasted bare, sulfur pools cooling and mingling with blood. She remembered sitting on a bluff and watching a seethe of bodies fall and bleed and fight. She remembered the crack of spells and lightning, the relief when Lilian came through the tent flaps no matter how covered in blood she was.

She remembered how Lilian always seemed to change, between the battlefield and the palace, how Lilian’s scent shifted between sickly-sweet and hot spice. She remembered coming to loathe the palace for what it did to her mistress’s scent and praying that the battlefield would need her a little longer, a little more.

She remembered the first night she had seen the queen use her mistress’s Name and the importance of a Name.

She remembered being tortured now. She remembered how it had tortured Lilian at the same time. Her mistress, her general, hers, hers, hers. Lilian was hers. 

Mirri pressed herself against Lilian when thunder cracked again, whimpering from the sound of it as a new rush of memories came through. Her general, her mistress, wrapped her up in tentacles and arms that had never felt more secure. Mirri pressed her nose to Lilan’s skin, breathed in the scent of rich spice. Her Lilian, not the queen’s Lilian. This was the one she knew, the one that she had always loved and wanted. Mirri pressed herself closer yet, her heart aching for everything she’d lost and all the pain she’d inflicted on her general.

“Mistress,” she pressed her fingers against Lilian’s chilly skin. Lilian was still so warm despite the rain. Her mistress let out a soft moan, a cry. She moved away from Mirri.  
Lightning flashed, illuminating mottled bruises and bleeding cuts. Mirri pulled back.

Lilian’s clothes had burned away in— in whatever Mirri had done. It left her skin bare. Through flashes of lightning, she inspected the damage someone had put on her general. The bites on Lilian’s breasts, her neck, the way that the queen had carved her mark on Lilian’s skin. The lashes that tore apart Lilian’s back. Mirri had never seen anything like it before, at least not on an incubus. Not on her general. Not on Lilian. Lilian was untouchable, unbreakable. Her general, her mistress.

No.

No. Mirri found herself baring her teeth. The queen was lucky that she was in hell and Mirri was here. Mirri wasn’t the pet she had been, so soft and susceptible to suggestion and emotion. So easy to manipulate by everyone around her. She was a survivor now. Thalassia, in a way, had given her a gift. She wasn’t a petal ripped away in the storm, she was the flower that closed up its buds and survived to bloom again after the rains. When push came to shove, she dug in her roots.

If Mirri saw the queen again, she’d find a way to make her bleed for everything she’d done to Lilian.

Lilian shivered and despite the warmth, Mirri felt how cool she was. Glancing around, she slid off of the bed and ignored the protest from her body as she dragged the windows shut. Heart pounding in her chest, she made her way back to the bed. She was so cold, but she still had some magic left in her.

Mirri cooed in the language of the succubi as she snuggled back up against Lilian’s side. Lilian’s tentacles reacted on their own, snaking loosely around Mirri’s body and holding her comfortably. Mirri wrapped her wings around Lilian’s shoulders and did her best to press as much of her skin up against Lilian as possible. Skin contact was important.

It was the claiming-mark on Lilian’s neck that Mirri hated the most. She pressed her lips against it, focused. The magic came sluggishly and clumsily. She felt herself growing colder, shivering in Lilian’s arms but she did her best to direct it. It made a dull red glow passing through her wings and skin into Lilian. Not enough. She needed _more._

I’m sorry, she thought to Lilian, pressing her head in the crook of Lilian’s neck. _I’m sorry I did this to us. I didn’t mean to, Mistress. I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t know how. I’m sorry. I messed things up so badly._

The heat grew as Mirri found reserves she didn’t know she had. Dull red turned to bright cherry, then yellow, white. Finally the heat burned blue. Mirri felt it, but she was colder than ice itself. Still she forced the magic to flow into Lilian and watched as the marks vanished. Darkness edged Mirri’s vision. She didn’t have much more to give. She was losing her memories now, they were slipping away from her. She narrowed her concentration to one thought and one thought alone.

_I love you, mistress. I love you._

_I love you.  
_

_I'll be back. I swear._

_I'll fix this._

_I love you._


End file.
